


Memoirs of Monarch, Book 1: The Drowned City

by LuminousAirena



Series: Memoirs of Monarch [1]
Category: Godzilla (2014), Godzilla - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Kaiju
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-04-07 04:49:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 30,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19077823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuminousAirena/pseuds/LuminousAirena
Summary: Salutations! This is the first of a series of stories that take place in Legendary's "Monsterverse". My plan is to bring in elements from Toho's older science fiction films and incorporate them into the current cinematic universe, in this case 1963's "Atragon". Characters will be a combination of originals and re-imagined ones. This is my first fanfic so please temper expectations!





	1. Harsh Light of Day

 

 

Hundreds of millions of years ago, before man, before even the dinosaurs, god-like monsters the size of mountains reigned over the planet Earth. Since the last ice age they lay hidden in slumber across the planet, but when World War II ended in a mushroom cloud they began to awaken. A secret coalition of scientists formed to study these creatures and prepare for the day they would return to take their planet back. This organization became known as Monarch. Their mission: discovery and defense in a time of monsters. These are their stories.

 

 

The Memoirs of Monarch

Book One

 The Drowned City

 

 

 

Chapter 1: Harsh Light of Day

 

January 1st, 2000, Xishuangbanna Tropical Rainforest, Yunnan Provence, People’s Republic of China

 

Asuka Saegusa awoke in a brand new millennium. So far she didn’t enjoy it. Her first moments into the 21st century were filled entirely with skull-ringing headaches and indiscriminate nausea. Asuka curled in her sleeping bag and she discovered her hand was still gripping the now-empty bottle of champagne from the previous night. With a curse Asuka realized she hadn’t even managed to stay conscious until midnight. This was not how she imagined she’d party in 1999. A long, agonized groan has her first greeting of the new century.

Memories began to painfully assert themselves in Asuka’s consciousness. With them came the realization that her sleeping bag was roomier than it should have been. A few blind pats confirmed the missing party. “Eric?” she asked, meeting the daylight with a squint. Each beam of light that entered her eyes carried a dagger to bury in her skull. Every bit of food and drink from the night before made a bid to escape now that her mouth was moving, but Asuka put every bit of will she had into keeping her stomach contents down. They were a three week’s journey from the nearest village and they could not afford to lose supplies on the account of a hangover.

“Well hello, sleepy head!” came a chipper male voice, “Happy New Year!” A thermos of black coffee was placed in her hands. Asuka did not brave enough light to look at Eric directly, but she was certain that at this moment he was the most handsome human alive, even with those weird ears of his and the way they stuck out. Once her stomach had been forcibly settled Asuka managed to bring the thermos to her lips. Her eyes were still shut though.

“Are you okay Asuka?” Eric asked before he realized, “Oh my god, do you have a hangover?”

“Shut up,” said Asuka.

“After just half a bottle of champagne?” he laughed.

“That’s not shutting up!” she scolded. “It’s the altitude! The air’s thinner. You can’t drink as much this high up.”

“Doesn’t bother me,” mentioned Eric glibly, “I drank as much as you last night.”

This Asuka chose to counter by repeating his words in a mocking tone. After a couple pensive sips of the blackest coffee she had ever tasted Asuka attempted to change the subject. “Hand me the satellite phone, will you? I need to check in with HQ. Let them know our coordinates.”

“Already took care of it,” said Eric with a theatrical air, “I’m sorry, it looks like the Y2K bug was real. It wiped out all of Project Monarch. The rest of the world too I’m afraid. We’re the only man and woman left. Like a new Adam and Eve.”

Asuka threw the empty bottle at him.

Without comment or complaint Eric packed up most of the camp himself. Each sip of coffee nudged Asuka closer to human awareness. In the place of her headache came the realization that this really was one of the most enchanting places on this planet. The Xishuangbanna Tropical Rainforest was nothing like those in South America. There was a cool mist here that took away the sweaty edge and perpetual cloud of insects that the Amazon provided. The birdsong was gentle compared to the mad fury you heard in Brazil. This rainforest felt more settled, more ancient, and far more isolated from the intrusion of man. They had been searching along a cliff face for the last two weeks now and in the valley beneath them the mist had condensed into a cloud. It gave this entire journey an ethereal air. This felt right. They were, after all, searching for a goddess.

After a couple minutes all their supplies were strapped to their backs. With her right arm Asuka took the metal suitcase that contained their satellite phone. It was bulky and irritatingly hefty on the best of days, but today was not one of the better ones. Her hangover angrily reasserted itself when she lifted it. There was nothing for it though. This far from any modern human settlement it took a phone supported by a suitcase filled with metal and wire to contact Monarch HQ. As the senior Monarch officer, it was Asuka’s duty to keep the phone with her at all times and report her progress whenever opportunity allowed. There shouldn’t be much threatening them in this forest, but Monarch had lost so many field officers in the past that silence made them nervous. The couple were about to leave camp when Asuka noticed the empty champagne bottle. She still couldn’t believe Eric smuggled it all the way up the mountain without her knowing, just so he could surprise her on New Year’s Eve. “I suppose we should take that with us,” Asuka said.

“Nonsense!” Eric rebutted. He picked the bottle and tossed it further into the brush. “We’re archeologists, aren’t we? When archeologists leave a mess it isn’t littering, it’s giving future generations work!” He kissed her, a meeting of their lips that was both gentle and deep. Then Eric took the heavy satellite phone to carry himself, adding some of Asuka’s burden to his own without so much as a comment. There was a sudden swell of affection for Eric that Asuka didn’t know quite what to do with.

Asuka and Eric were partners. They worked well together, depended on one another, and met each other’s needs both in and out of the sack. You couldn’t really call their relationship romantic.  That word just felt all wrong, or at least it used to. Lately though Asuka was having the occasional burst of stronger emotion that was driving her a bit mad. Eric was sweet, very kind, and tremendously good with his hands. Was it at all possible that maybe Eric too was feeling something stronger between them than adventuring buddies? Or at least more than adventuring buddies that only needed one sleeping bag between them? If Asuka asked him what they really meant to each other, how would he react? The rational side of Asuka envisioned Eric bewildered by the question, maybe even repelled. There was also a painful shard of hope that reflected a vision of Eric confessing an undying love. It made Asuka feel childish and dim, but she couldn’t force away the feeling.

As she pondered Asuka fell a little behind. Eric looked back at her, sandy-haired and dimple cheeked, and smiled while she caught up. To her annoyance it made Asuka melt a little. Even the weird way his ears stuck out was adorable to her now. They could be happy together, Asuka knew. If Asuka was going to make a case for a real relationship though, she would have to make it soon. Altitude or not Asuka knew she wasn’t able to drink like she used to. She wasn’t getting any younger and she didn’t have many years left climbing mountains searching for ancient temples. Eric was a dozen years younger than her. He was only recruited two years ago, and it was the thrill of search and discovery that motivated his every move. If Asuka quit field work she assumed that Eric would just leave her behind. Still that treacherous hope persisted, that if she asked Eric might just give up the chase and settle down with her.

Eric came to Monarch in 1998 when he stumbled into one of their outposts in Peru while he was searching for rare butterflies. He was still trying to get his head around the idea that these slumbering god-monsters were real. In contrast Asuka was a third generation Monarch brat. Asuka’s grandparents had stood witness to the foundational pact that formed Project Monarch. Mason Weaver herself showed Asuka the photos she took from Skull Island. Asuka was one of the few who had seen some of these monsters in person. The English-speakers in Monarch called them Titans, the Japanese referred to them as Kaiju, and the more military-minded insisted calling them M.U.T.O.S for Massive Unidentified Terrestrial Organisms. Whatever they were called, finding them, studying them, preparing for the day when they would awaken, this was the Saegusa family business. If Asuka couldn’t do field work she would find another way to make herself useful. Eric never seemed to have the same sense of awe and urgency. There was hope that if Eric did finally behold a Kaiju in the flesh his priorities might change.

Today at least, Eric might have the chance. A loud beep came from a device at Asuka’s side followed by a needle-like crackle.

“Shit,” Eric swore, “Is that your Geiger counter?”

“Yeah,” said Asuka, pulling the device from her hip, “No worries though. It’s not enough radiation to do any damage. Way above the background level though.” Her Geiger counter had a wand connected by a wire; Asuka unhitched it and began to point the wand around, looking for the radiation’s source. “There,” she said, pointing to a wall of stone smothered in vegetation. After taking his machete in hand, Eric poked the stone a couple of times. Finding no unusual resistance Eric then chopped at the surrounding vines and roots. When they fell away they revealed an image carved into the rock. It was of a giant moth, with miniature twin priestesses worshiping from either side. Asuka was almost laughing with joy. “There she is!” she announced, “The queen of the monsters!”

“If you’re happy I’m happy,” said Eric.

Below the engraving was a man-sized stone leaning onto the rock. With frantic energy Asuka shoved her finger around the stone’s rim, searching out any irregularities. “We have to move this stone,” she insisted, “This is an entryway, I’d bet my left ovary.”

In kind Eric tried to get his own hold on the stone, pushing and pulling at it in the hopes of finding some weak spot. To the surprise of them both it began to give a little when pulled and they both heaved all their strength upon the tiny gap between wall and stone. Then, like a door, it just swung open. There was the sound of some small animal scuttling away in a hurry at their feet, but neither caught a glimpse of it. They did see a stone hinge holding this rock to the wall. This was an entryway, and one meant to avoid detection. Without the Geiger counter Asuka would have walked right past.

Inside was pure darkness. After a short scramble with her equipment Asuka cut through it with a flashlight. There wasn’t much to see but a rough staircase of wet stone that led up a narrow path. “Hooooly crap,” opined Eric, “After you, babe. You’re the expert here. I’ve got your back.”

The going was slow. The steps were uneven and slippery. Every couple steps Asuka checked the walls and ceiling but found no other markings. “Do we know who built this place?” wondered Eric.

“The Dian kingdom probably,” said Asuka, “They didn’t have a written language but we found some Dian artifacts in the other moth temples so there was speculation we’d find another somewhere in the Yunnan Provence. And here we are.”

“How much am I allowed to know about these moth temples?” ventured Eric.

Asuka paused. As a recent recruit Eric wasn’t cleared to know a good deal of sensitive information. After mentally thumbing through her internal filing system Asuka came up with a safe basic outline. “We know of one Titan that had extensive contact with a number of ancient cultures. She’s been awake and active longer than any other identified super-species. Her scientific name is _Titanus mosura,_ but in Monarch she’s generally known as Mothra. We’ve found temples dedicated to her in Peru, Japan, and Ethiopia. The Iwi of Skull Island were also seen wearing some of her religious symbols.”

“She sounds very… interactive.”

“Uniquely so,” Asuka responded, “Mothra is the only Kaiju known to recognize humans as sentient beings and in her interactions with humans she has shown remarkable sympathy. In some cave paintings she was even shown cooperating with the Big Guy. Dr. Serizawa believes humanity’s best course for surviving a mass Kaiju awakening is to form alliances with the better natured among them. Mothra’s our best bet.”

“Any idea of where she is now?” asked Eric.

“No,” Asuka sighed, “The last confirmed sighting was in 1944. We can only hope what we find in this temple gives us some clue as to where… she… went.” Asuka’s words trailed off into silence as the stairs ended in the temple’s central chamber. The sight of it left Asuka utterly awestruck. This one room was larger than the Notre Dame cathedral, with giant openings on all three sides, each large enough for a jumbo jet’s passage and each leading to a sheer cliff-drop. A glance upward showed a ceiling so high it could not be seen. The view merely faded into darkness. It was only thanks to the mist of the valley and the canopy above that this place remained hidden. Trembling with shear excitement, Asuka’s gaze turned to what stood at the chamber’s center. It was a stair-wrapped platform surrounded by gray rock. And attached to that platform by some hardened biological sealant was one brain-breakingly huge sphere. It was colored in a swirl of chocolate brown and creamy white. It reminded Asuka a bit of the planet Jupiter.

“That… that looks like a Kaiju egg,” Eric quivered.

“Yeah,” was the only response Asuka could muster.

“So… son of Mothra maybe?”

“It… might be more than that,” Asuka breathed, “Mothra has a continuing cycle of death and rebirth. She lays an egg when she reaches adulthood and when she dies the egg develops and hatches into a new Mothra- one that retains the wisdom and memory of her previous life.”

“That sounds like reincarnation. Are you saying she’s like, the Dalai Lama?” asked an incredulous Eric.

“She might be where the ancient Tibetans got the idea,” said Asuka. Part of her knew she should just call Monarch and sit tight for a containment crew, but the rest of Asuka knew she had to walk up those stairs and touch the egg before anything else could happen. With some jittery nerves, and while deliberately controlling her own breathing, Asuka ascended the stairway where the ovum lay. “Don’t get too close to any of that gray rock,” Asuka called back to Eric, “I’m pretty sure that’s uranium. The Titans feed off radiation; it’s just here to nourish the young one. It won’t kill you. Just don’t sit on it if you want to have kids someday.”

Behind her Asuka could hear Eric was already setting up the satellite phone, so thoughtful of him. A few more steps and Asuka’s face was inches away. To her wonder the shell was actually transparent as glass and about a foot deep. The swirl of color Asuka had seen earlier was all from inside the egg. With her heart dancing in her chest Asuka pressed her palm against the shell. It was warm to the touch.

“It’s alive, Eric!” Asuka exclaimed. She was trying to keep a lid on her tears, but they were overflowing. Asuka lifted her hand from the shell and was surprised to see a palm print glowing green that then faded and disappeared into the ovum’s depths.

“I was afraid of that,” said Eric. And then Asuka heard the unmistakable click of a gun’s safety being turned off.

In that one click all of Asuka’s joy turned to ice. She turned and saw Eric pointing a pistol straight at her while he played with the frequency knobs of the satellite phone. It was the same pistol Eric insisted on bringing because he claimed to be worried about tigers. Eric had said he needed that gun so he could keep her safe.

“Stay where you are,” Eric commanded. He would not make eye contract. Asuka lied to herself that this was just a joke, though she knew Eric wasn’t stupid enough to point a gun at someone in jest. A dozen other scenarios passed through Asuka’s head, all in a dire effort to demonstrate that this was not what it appeared. In her shame Asuka even looked around to find the venomous snake that Eric must have been pointing at instead of her. “Sorry babe,” said Eric, still avoiding eye contact, “if it helps I was a double agent long before we ever met.”

The static on the phone cleared, and an oily-voiced man on the other side of the line was speaking Russian. And Eric responded in kind, just as quick, just as clear, just as fluent in Russian. Monarch did not have a pleasant history with the Russians. _He’s with Red Bamboo_ , Asuka realized, _He’s a goddamn terrorist._ “Please Eric,” begged Asuka, “You don’t have to do this. We can just go back together. You’ll be a hero, to Monarch, to everyone.”

The oily-voiced man on the other line paused, then in a heavy accent said, “Is she still alive? Come on now. Don’t get sentimental. Regret is a luxury only the dead can afford.”

Eric sighed, and finally met Asuka’s eyes with his. “I am sorry,” he said, “I wish it didn’t have to go down like this. We had a good time, and you were an amazing lay. But this is bigger than both of us.” And then he shot her. He shot her three times.

Instinctively Asuka clutched her abdomen after staggering from the impact. Shock had set in, there really wasn’t pain, but her hands were already overflowing with blood. It grew colder as it ran through her fingers. Asuka was feeling the warmth of her life ebb out of her. Her life, her memories, her future, it was all going to end here, on these cold stone steps. The faces off all those Asuka loved flashed through her mind. They would find her here dead, a silly girl who couldn’t see the traitor that slept beside her. Asuka fell to her knees and screamed.

A sigh came from Eric. “I really didn’t want to have to gore up your pretty face,” he said, “But I suppose a headshot would be a mercy. I owe you that at least.” The bastard sauntered up to Asuka’s crumpled form and pointed his weapon at her skull. Asuka made sure to stare directly at him with unblinking hate and fury but the man who called himself Eric would not meet her eye again. There was one last gunshot, Asuka collapsed to the hard ground, and everything went dark.

There was a moment where nothing happened, but a moment was still time and time was not something Asuka should be experiencing. _I’m dead, right?_ thought Asuka. There was no answer. It was a mad force of will, but Asuka opened her eyes. She had to see through spots of blood, but Asuka could make out an image of her killer lightly stepping back to her satellite phone. Asuka’s head rang so hard it felt like it was pulsating. That last shot must have just grazed her skull, but Eric didn’t notice. Asuka reached up to touch where the bullet struck and she felt bone under her newest slick of blood. Asuka could feel her whole body growing cold. She couldn’t have more than a couple minutes left. That was fine. A couple minutes were all she needed.

The static of the satellite phone hid Asuka’s movements. Her eyes were locked on the traitorous bastard while she dropped her back pack from her shoulder and tugged at the zipper. Eric was fiddling with the dials of his GPS unit, trying to get their exact coordinates to give his Russian overlords. When Asuka’s fingers closed on the hard frame of the flare gun a smile returned to her lips. She couldn’t make the shot from this angle though, Asuka had to stand. With Asuka’s last bit of strength she forced her knees to push her back upwards. To keep herself upright Asuka had to lean one hand on Mothra’s egg and was vaguely upset at getting her blood on it. In what was to be her last act of defiance Asuka took aim and made her shot.

The flare sparkled in the air before landing directly in the satellite phone’s steel suitcase. Eric stumbled backward as phosphorous sizzled on the phone’s delicate electronics before sudden pop made the case perform a triple backflip with accompanying fireworks. It landed dead on the temple floor, just a steaming husk. Laughter brought unspeakable pain, but Asuka did it anyway. Eric had no way of communicating with the Russians. He would have to spend weeks getting back to civilization. With any luck by then Monarch would have launched a search-and-rescue team. Maybe they wouldn’t be able to rediscover the temple, but their presence here would at least keep the Russians from getting ahold of the egg themselves. This was enough. Asuka could die in peace now, she had done her best.

Eric was now a transformed animal. His face turned red, the veins in his neck bulged, and his eyes turned wild. “YOU BITCH!” he raged, “YOU FILTHY WHORE. WHAT DID YOU DO?!” He stormed up to Asuka, pointed the gun to her temple. And least now he’d look her in the eye. Asuka smirked and braced herself for oblivion.

It didn’t come. Eric froze. Every muscle in his body went rigid. Asuka couldn’t even see him breathe. The only part of Eric he still exhibited any control over was his eyes. He looked terrified, and he wasn’t looking at her. Every movement Asuka made came at a terrible price, but with care she managed to look behind her shoulder.

The egg was now emitting a soft glow and within it a single black oval shape had appeared. It was at least as tall as a human and it was centered right where Asuka’s bloody hand was touching its surface. Her knees finally buckled and Asuka collapsed into a pool of her own blood. All the muted alarms her body was sending to Asuka now blasted her brain, but she gave the rest of her waning attention to the curious oval. It rose in the egg and disappeared in an eclipse, only to be replaced by a second oval. That was when Asuka realized these black circles were eyes. Whatever was gestating inside the ovum was looking directly at her. “Sorry… about the mess,” Asuka said weakly.

A scream made Asuka turn her gaze. Now the veins in Eric’s eyes looked like vines. He didn’t blink but his body was trembling. Then whatever was holding him let go. Screeching in apparent madness Eric stormed across the temple. He made a bee-line to one of the giant openings that led directly to the cliff face. Without a millisecond of hesitation Eric ran until there was no more stone. Gravity then would carry him the rest of the way. Eric’s time in this universe came to a close with a barely audible thump.

If Asuka had a thought to spare, she still wouldn’t have offered one to Eric’s demise. The egg was her only focus. Its glow had been turned up into a blinding light. At last Asuka let go. Her body fell backwards and the darkness came to consume her. There was no pain at least, it had all fled her. There was no cold either, in fact Asuka’s body felt unusually and pleasantly warm. The last thing Asuka saw was the temple’s ceiling. In the shine of the egg Asuka could now see the images of dozens of monsters that were painted far above. Some she recognized, most she didn’t. Her friends were going to freak when they found this place was her last conscious thought.

 

|><|

 

Asuka Saegusa awoke again, which was out-of-character for a dead woman. The first thing she did was scratch at a strange tingling feeling on her scalp. As she rubbed it Asuka then remembered that where she was rubbing was supposed to have an open wound complete with a chunk of exposed skull. After some padding around her head Asuka was forced to conclude that her noggin was entirely intact once more, though her hair was now matted with dried blood.

Asuka had to peel herself off the temple floor. The puddle of blood she was sleeping in had mostly turned to paste. The first thing Asuka did when she was on her feet was pull off her shirt and examine her abdomen. There was nothing but unblemished skin where she had been shot three times. A greater shock was that Asuka’s scar from when her appendix was removed had also disappeared. That operation happened in high school, almost twenty years ago. Asuka checked her arm. About a decade ago a poacher had sliced her wrist to her elbow but now that scar too was gone.

It was the daytime, sometime in the afternoon. Whether it was the same day Asuka had found the temple or if a week had past she had no way of knowing. The egg was dormant once more. Asuka felt like it was sleeping, though she couldn’t pinpoint why. Still she bowed to it in reverence, offered her gratitude, and hoped it understood how thankful Asuka was for- doing whatever it did. The next order of business was pulling out some binoculars from Asuka’s bloody backpack and scanning the rocks below the temple. It didn’t take long for Asuka to find what she was looking for; it offered the only splash of color upon the bare stone. Satisfied that the man who called himself Eric was well and truly dead Asuka began to pace the temple, kicking the charred remains of the satellite phone as she did so.

So here she was, almost a month’s journey from the nearest human settlement, alone and with most of her supplies either stained with blood or smashed on the rocks below. No doubt entered Asuka’s mind; she would make it back alive. You don’t get magically healed by a pre-born moth goddess just to die in the jungle a day later. Asuka dragged her backpack from the blood pool to see what was salvageable. She had to stop for a few minutes to deal with another wave of nausea. It was funny; Mothra could apparently heal Asuka’s childhood scars and the headache from her hangover but not the nausea. And that was when Asuka realized her nausea probably wasn’t related to any alcohol.

“Oh,” Asuka realized when the penny finally dropped.

 


	2. Requiem

 

August 13th, 2013, Monarch Holding Facility, Location Unknown

 

A florescent bulb buzzed to life three feet above. Light came to a small square room of painted cement bricks. There was a desk of pressed wood at the center and a single unfolded chair. A one-way mirror on the opposite wall presented the room’s duplicate. There was a buzz as an electric lock was released. One door slid open and a young woman dressed in tough, sanitized clothing entered. The door behind her slid shut with an echoing finality. A few weeks ago the young woman would have panicked being stranded in this environment. The stale air would have suffocated her and the frozen stillness of the cement would have made her nauseous. Now they came as a balm to the madness that ate at her. The anxiety at who was watching her from behind the mirror would have once left the woman stuttering. Today though, she saw her tired, defeated double staring back at her and could not muster the slightest curiosity. The woman did not have to breathe salt air, did not had to feel the waves again, and those were the only comforts she could think to want. So she sat in the chair presented to her and waited.

The wait was not long. The door opened and a man entered followed by a woman. The man was of Asian descent and looked to be in his sixties. A small laptop was folded under his arm. The woman was Caucasian, a couple decades younger than the man and in lieu of any electronics she held a clip board and a look of intense curiosity.

“Ms. Jones?” asked the man, with a distinct Japanese accent. He held out a hand for her to shake. The tired woman in the seat was not expecting this formality but rose to greet the man. There was an unusual scruffiness about this Asian male, something she had not seen from the others in this facility. All the others she encountered here spoke and acted with trained discipline and blank demeanor. This man’s tie was loose, his smile warm, and his eyes twinkled with sympathy. Though he was not a soldier his battered jacked still bore the emblem worn by everyone else in this facility- two triangles touching tips in the center to give the vaguest impression of the wings of a butterfly, or a moth. “I am Dr. Ishiro Serizawa,” the Japanese man continued, giving her what he probably thought was a reassuring handshake, “Thank you for speaking with us today. This is my associate, Dr. Vivienne Graham.”

The white woman stepped forward and offered her own hand. This handshake was gentle and calculated. “A pleasure,” she said with reverence and a British accent before retreating back behind the older man.

“We must apologize, Ms. Jones” said Serizawa, before pausing. “How do you prefer being addressed?” he asked.

“Req,” responded Req reflexively, leaning into what had become an automatic explanation, “My full name is Requiem Jones, but I usually just go by Req.” The British lady made a note in her file. “Requiem isn’t that unusual a name in Jamaica,” Req felt a need to add.

“It’s a lovely name,” Dr. Graham promised, “You grew up in Jamaica then?”

“Yes ma’am,” Req told her. “My mother was Irish,” she provided while gesturing to the rust color of her dreadlocks and the platter of darker freckles across her already-dark skin that make her look like a living Pollock painting. Her parentage was another thing Req usually had to explain at each introduction.

“And you are a nature photographer?” Dr. Graham inquired from her file.

“Of a sort,” said Req. “I don’t often do the filming directly. I’m employed as a dive specialist, keeping scientists and film makers safe when they have to venture into the open ocean. Nature documentaries are my most frequent employers. Usually for the BBC or Chinese television. I won’t work for the Discovery Channel. Not after those damn CGI mermaid shows.”

“And this is what brought you to the South China Sea during the events of last Tuesday?” asked Serizawa. He placed the laptop in front of Req. She knew this moment was coming, ever since her eyes noticed what Serizawa was holding. Still cold electricity stiffened Req’s muscles in the anticipation.

“Y, yes,” clarified Req. She cleared her throat. “I was with a group from the BBC. We were hoping to film sperm whales in the open ocean. And we found them. But then…”

After Req trailed off Serizawa stepped forward. “I apologize. We would not press you for information if it wasn’t of vital, global importance. I want to show you the footage we recovered from the video feed on your diver’s suit. I was hoping you could describe what we are seeing. Is this acceptable?”

To her surprise Req found herself believing that if she said no, this man would actually close the laptop and leave her be. This Japanese gentleman filled every word he said with absolute sincerity. Instead she nodded, Serizawa pressed a key, and the laptop began to play.

“Don’t get too close!” Came Req’s own, microphone-warped voice. “Todd? TODD! These aren’t humpbacks!” Part of Req still recognized how fantastic this footage was. Three sperm whales, two adults and a juvenile gracefully drifted through beams of sunlight that flickered through the waves above. But the focus from this lens was not on the aquatic mammals, but on a diver getting closer and closer to the smallest of the whales. The mother’s eyes were locked on the invading diver, but he paid her little attention.

“I’m not much of a photographer,” present-day Req confessed as a matter of explanation, “but the producers usually keep a small camera on my diving helmet just in case. Sometimes I catch something that makes it into the series. If nothing else my footage can be used for some _Making of_ special.”

“Chist on a fucking cracker, Todd! Are you even listening to me?” yelled Req in the footage.

“My audio doesn’t usually make the cut though,” Req admitted. A collection of words not often allowed on television then poured from the laptop, all directed at the careless diver. “Did you ever find him?” Req asked, “Todd I mean?”

“We did,” said Serizawa, “I am sorry, he did not survive. Were you close?”

“Actually I thought he was an asshole,” Req told him, “He kept trying to teach the local native islanders about Jesus. Always assumed he knew my job better than I did.”

“No, Todd!” yelled Req’s distorted voice from the laptop, “Move five more meters away. I can pull you from the team Todd. Look at mama whale. She’s going to go Moby Dick on your ass.”

“Almost makes it worse,” said live-action Req, “If he had been a good man at least I’d know how to mourn him.”

There were two others on this dive, Leslie and Xavier. They were filming back by the whales’ flukes and spoke to one another over the coms as if Todd’s scolding was not taking place. Now it was Req trying not to notice their voices on the feed. Both were dead, this Req already knew. The other soldiers told her as much when she was brought here. With Todd’s death confirmed Req realized she was now the only survivor. It made Req wonder what these soldiers would do with her when she was no longer needed. It would be all too easy to record the survival list as zero and there was clearly a lot of power backing this outfit. For some reason Req did not worry too much about this. The future didn’t feel like a place she belonged anymore.

A final moment of peace passed on the video. Grudgingly Todd kept his distance and the four filmed the whale family in relative harmony. Back in the cement room Req breathed deep, the hairs on the back of her neck stood straight. She knew what was about to happen. The horrible event was heralded by a great deal of excited cross chat on the radio feed. “One at a time!” video-Req shouted back, “One speaker at a time! Xavier, what’s the problem?” And that was when Xavier gave her the simple instruction of “look down.”

The camera on Req’s helmet turned to the depths. At first there was nothing. Then an electric blue lit up in the inky abyss. It had no distinct shape, just a long fuzzy ellipsoid of light. A great deal of expletives cackled on the radio feed. Seeing it again in her concrete bunker Req couldn’t help but marvel once more. How big was that thing? How deep? The light from the depths vanished, but only for a moment. When it re-lit, it did so only in sections. Then it lit in a wave, back and forth across whatever shape this thing made. All of Req’s doomed colleagues marveled and gasped from the laptop’s speakers.

“I don’t suppose you know what that was,” Req commented to her captors.

“We have some suspicions,” Serizawa admitted.

“We would like to hear your thoughts on this,” said Graham, “You’ve been diving as long as anyone.”

“I spent more of my childhood on a boat than on solid land,” Req admitted, “I’ve been on or in the ocean all my life but I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“How deep would you say those lights go?” Graham asked.

“Based on the visual distortion I would guess, maybe, thousands of feet? But that would mean this thing would have to be larger than a couple of aircraft carriers. It’s bio-luminescent, that I’m pretty sure of. My first guess would be an algae swell; that would at least account for the size. But it’s too bright, algae are simple, single-celled organisms. The depth is also a problem- algae need sunlight to grow. Also the patterns are too complex for a collection of individual life forms. They almost remind me of the light shows cuttlefish display when they want to confuse predators. Or when they go hunting.”

On the feed the glow from the deep came to a halt. You could see Leslie and Xavier keeping their cameras locked on the point the light show vanished. Todd began foolishly swimming as far down as he could. The recorded Req didn’t bother to yell at him again. Instead Req’s camera spun about, then locked onto the dark oval above them that was their boat. Her instincts back then were screaming in her head to get everyone out of the water, but they came too late.

“I wish I had noticed earlier,” Req told her interviewers, “how fast the whales had swam away.”

Then came the growl. It had to be a growl; there was no other way to describe that sound, that deep guttural bass that seemed to fill the entire ocean. It had made Req’s body vibrate end to end and the video feed shivered into static a couple of times before popping back online. Req had been yelling something but even from her own microphone you couldn’t hear her words until the growl came to a stop. Even then you had to wait until the ringing was out of your ears before you make out Req’s screams. “GET BACK IN THE BOAT! RIGHT NOW! EVERYONE BACK IN THE DAMN BOAT!!”

From her feed you could see both Xavier and Leslie turn and struggle to move as fast as possible towards the boat’s outline on the water’s surface. Todd was nowhere to be seen. On the com Req could hear her own gasps as she tried to follow them. Their speed looked comically slow in the footage. Their boat seemed impossibly far away. Now Req realized her eyes had been so focused on the boat’s outline above she didn’t see the horribly immense dark mass that was rushing toward them from the side. But now she did see it, as well as the horrible ripple on the surface it made where the fin broke through. It alone was several times wider than the boat that was their hope for salvation. At the time the only warning Req got was the screams on the coms of the workers still aboard. She heard them again now and it turned her blood solid.

It hit, and everything was chaos. Req wasn’t struck directly, but the moving thing’s wake tossed her violently in the water. It was more like a hurricane than a whirlpool. She remembered blood burst from her nose at this point. It took several insanely long seconds for Req to right herself and check her surroundings. Xavier and Leslie were still there, but much farther away. Xavier was inert and sinking, but Leslie was diving desperately to recover him. The feed turned upward and spun in desperation. The boat. They had to find the boat. But there was no sign of it. The surface settled back into a shimmer and was empty. That was impossible though, even if the boat was sinking she would still be able to see the damn thing.

Horribly, Req then spotted a familiar pattern of colors in the air above the sea. From god-knows-how-high the boat fell from the sky. It crashed into the surface, already a splintered wreck. She didn’t remember seeing it at the time, but there in the footage the smashed boat clearly replaced the space once filled by the tiny forms of Leslie and Xavier. Poor Leslie had gotten her arms around Xavier and was pushing them both upwards but they never had a chance. The camera turned from the couple’s last moment as Req tried to now swim away from the sinking wreck. Below her was a dark shape, larger than a whale, larger than a hundred whales. It was serpentine; sliding beneath her at a speed nothing that large should be able to manage. And it was rising as it swam.

Once again Req changed directions in a bid for safety and once again it was an experiment in futility. The tail of this thing was soon upon her. This size of it consumed her entire world. Her camera got a brief glimpse of an emerald scale larger than Req’s body before it hit. She was flung out of the water, maybe six feet before crashing back down. The tail of the thing had barely brushed the surface, but it tossed her from the ocean like she was a bit of sea foam. After Req had crashed back underwater her camera got one nice image of a long, snake-like tail ending in a large, spiny flipper disappearing into the deep blue. After this Req would spend the next few hours bobbing on the ocean surface, struggling to stay conscious despite the pain of what would turn out to be three broken ribs and enough bruising to turn half her body purple. In the end she would get rescued, not by China, or Indonesia, or even the BBC. Req would be fished from the water by this strange organization with the triangle/ butterfly logo. They had known long before anyone else.

At least Req would not have to relive her wait and rescue. Serizawa turned off the laptop. “Please forgive me,” he said, “but it is vital we understand what happened to you this day. It could have dire consequences for the future.”

“It didn’t attack us,” Req realized, “didn’t even notice us. We were just there, in its way. Just a flip of a tail. What was it?”

“We do not know,” Serizawa admitted, “The creature you faced is not one our organization has encountered before.”

“The glow from earlier,” realized Req, “It wasn’t from the same thing as the one that hit us. Wrong shape. The thing that hit us was like some serpent.”

“Was there anything familiar to you about this creature?” Graham asked, “Anything about its scales, its color, its fin that you would see in local wildlife?”

“I didn’t get a great look,” said Req, “and nothing I did see made sense. It had scales, but they weren’t fish scales. They were reptilian but with a shimmer you don’t see in aquatic reptiles. The fin had irradiating spines, but those only exist in boney fish. In terms of cladistics I don’t see anywhere it fits in on the tree of life.”

Vivian took a few more notes, and Req took the opening to ask a question of her own. “How did Todd die?” she asked. The two doctors gave each other a terrible look. “Just tell me,” Req said.

“Mr. Millar was dragged downwards,” said Serizawa, “To the point where the added pressure crushed his suit and helmet.”

Dr. Graham picked up this thread. “In those depths he also got exposed to extreme heat. Do you know how he might have encountered such temperatures? A volcanic vent perhaps?”

“How hot are we talking?”

“Hot enough that his suit was melted into him,” Serizawa said with a grimace, “They could not be surgically separated.”

Req then exclaimed a number of expressions the BBC would have not have let on air. “Was this heat damage localized to one part of the body or was it uniform?” Req asked when she was done stringing expletives.

“Uniform,” Dr. Graham answered.

“Then no, it wasn’t a vent,” responded Req, “They only release heat like that over a very small area. Sorry.”

“You are being exceedingly helpful,” promised Serizawa.

“We have one last inquiry. Have you spoken much with the local island nations?” Graham questioned, “Specifically do you know of anything in local folklore that might reflect the being you encountered? As a deity or demon perhaps?”

“I don’t speak many of the local languages,” Req admitted, “This is a bit far from my home surf. But…” She paused a moment to fish out the memory. “There was one moment that stood out for me. It wasn’t for this job; it was a couple years back and a bit closer to Indonesia. A young boy was playing with a hand-made toy, a snake made from bits of wood that made a slithering movement when you held it right. I had something like it as a kid. This one was a little different though, its face looked more like a lion than a snake and it had little legs pinned on each side of its body. The child called the toy Manda. He wasn’t the only one; I heard most of the children mention Manda at some point during the shoot. I asked the village matriarch, she was fairly fluent in English. According to her Manda worked like the European bogeyman, a tale to scare children into obedience. Story was Manda was a mischievous dragon that lived deep below. It loved playing with disobedient children, so if you caused trouble Manda would swim up at night, grab you, and drag you down to the Drowned City to play with him forever and ever. It wasn’t exactly a god, but the story stuck with me.”

“What was this Drowned City?” Graham asked.

Req shrugged. “I didn’t understand that part. Maybe it’s something like the lost city of Mu? A purgatory for the souls of disobedient children? I got the impression it wasn’t somewhere you wanted to be.”

“Do you remember where this island was?”

“Not off-hand. I could probably figure out if I looked up my travel history. I would need my phone back though. Sooner would be better than later. Rising sea levels are already starting to swallow up some of those islands. Entire cultures are already being dismantled and scattered wherever the natives find sanctuary. Who knows what’s already been lost.”

“We will get you your phone, soon as we can,” promised Serizawa.

There was an uncomfortable silence, which didn’t get any more comfy when Req bluntly asked them, “Am I going to be shot? For what I’ve seen?”

Graham and Serizawa exchanged a look. “No,” Serizawa insisted, “Monarch is not in the habit of killing witnesses.”

“We do ask you be guarded with others regarding what you have seen,” Graham was quick to add, “The world is full of monsters like this serpent. We are doing what we can to prepare for the day when their existence will be obvious to all. And we would like to push that date as far in the future as we can.”

Serizawa slid a black business card towards Requiem. It carried the Monarch logo and a single phone number. “In fact it has been unofficial Monarch policy to recruit those who have gotten swept into our field of study,” he said, “Your expertise in underwater exploration would be of great value to us.”

“But of course we also understand that today’s events have been traumatizing,” Graham added, “that number can also connect you to a number of councilors employed by Monarch specially trained to deal with the trauma caused by an encounter with a Titan.”

“Please though, only discuss what happened today with those who can trust to remain silent,” Serizawa finished.

 “But why?” Req asked, “If these things are out there and they are that much of a threat, why not tell the world? We could pool the planet’s resources, come up with a plan to protect ourselves.”

Serizawa took a good moment to consider his response. “Ms. Req,” he said, “You mentioned these islands disappearing thanks to rising sea levels. Why is it that the sea is rising?”

“Climate change,” Req said with a shrug.

“A threat that has been well known to the world for decades, one with viable solutions that have never been acted upon in any meaningful way. Thanks to greed, ignorance and superstition any attempt to alleviate the damage has been circumvented. It is our opinion that the best way to proceed is to do so without the influence of politicians, religious leaders, the military and men of industry for so long as they can be avoided.”

And that was that. The official story was that Req’s team was hit with a freak storm that destroyed the boat and left her the only survivor. Requiem’s phone was returned, she gave the two doctors the rest of the information they asked for, and she was let go with a blank ticket to anywhere on the planet Req wanted to go. Jamaica was out; Req couldn’t live near the sea anymore. Even the smell of saltwater triggered her flight or fight mode. Req had a brother that married an American girl in Michigan- far from any shoreline. They didn’t need much convincing to take her in. Everyone accepted that Req was suffering some kind of PTSD, and maybe she was.

Stubbornness kept Req from calling one of Monarch’s councilors. Req’s brother set his basement up for her, and for Req it was perfect. She wanted to be left underground. Months went by and Req rarely even ventured to the ground floor. Her brother and his wife never mentioned it, but Req could see the worry in their eyes every time they spoke. The question of ‘how long do you plan on staying here’ was always in the air but never spoken. Requiem wouldn’t have an answer anyway. It felt like she was living in a different reality as everyone else. Try as she might she couldn’t make her way back to the simple, cozy, monster-less universe her brother inhabited. In the end though, she wouldn’t have to.

It was on Friday, May 16th 2014\. There had been an unusual prolonged silence from the house above. Even from the basement Requiem could feel the tension. After ascending the stairs she found her brother and his wife together on the couch wrapped in a blanket. They were barely bothering to blink while their eyes were fixed on the television, on some breaking news report. Requiem turned to see what had mesmerized them and witnessed Monarch’s collective shit hitting the world’s fan.


	3. The God Lizard

 

May 16th, 2014, Osaka, Japan

 

In a way Asuka Saegusa did find love and settle down after she had emerged from the Chinese rainforest, just not in the way she envisioned. Carrying Eric’s child certainly made the journey more interesting. This new baby didn’t feel like an incursion though, quite the opposite. Back in the wilds they felt like a team, the gestating life gave Asuka something to focus on. It kept her sane, in a way it kept her company. When Asuka at last encountered other human faces and consumed the nourishment of civilization she swore to give her growing daughter the best, and most safe, life she could offer.

This would mean an end to Asuka’s time at Monarch. Aside for family and a few select friends the official story was that Asuka never made it back from the temple of the moth. After the birth, when Asuka slept that first night with the tiny shriveled human Asuka felt like she understood for the first time what it meant to love. She was so flush with it Asuka could hardly stand it. Asuka’s vow was renewed. This precious thing would not walk in the footprints of monsters, never be lost in the world’s savage places, and never be placed in an environment where someone she trusted would betray and shoot her to sell a goddess to the highest bidder.

It was a simple promise, if an oddly specific one, but it was also fourteen years old. Being a single mother to a teenage girl tended to complicate everything. Mothering did not come naturally to the former adventurer, particularly when taking on the mantle of authority figure. Setting curfews and assigning chores was against Asuka’s very being. Finances were also always a problem. Asuka couldn’t put “former monster hunter” on her resume and so had to make do with a low earning position teaching English to high-school students. Turning to Monarch for help wasn’t an option. Every hint of Asuka’s association with that organization was scrubbed from her home. If it was in her power Asuka would strike the word “Kaiju” from the Japanese language. There was so much more Asuka’s daughter could do with her life if only she applied herself.

Miki Saegusa had been a precocious child. Every mother thinks their child is unusually bright, and every mother thinks ‘no, really, mine actually is’ but Miki actually, factually, 100% was. At first Miki struggled in her readings, but when an adult explained things she picked up right away. So long as she had a real human to teach her Miki never saw a failing grade. From the beginning Miki was also unusually empathetic. There was never a moment she was afraid of any insect or snake, and Miki went out of her way to help any creature in need regardless of leg count, sometimes to her mother’s horror. The girl was fearless in other ways too. Scary movies never shook her and Asuka never had to check for any closet creatures. Asuka may not be a natural mother, but she was always a proud one.

Even now Asuka was proud, even if that pride was sometimes smothered in frustration. In those early days it had been easy. It was Miki and Asuka against the world. At first the worst Asuka had to worry about were questions about Miki’s father. All Asuka told her daughter was that her father was a bad man who did bad things and was now gone. To Asuka’s relief Miki didn’t ask anything more. Recently Asuka had confessed the whole story, minus the moth and Monarch bits. Miki seemed to take the truth of her father in stride, but Asuka wondered if the revelation might be a catalyst to the current troubles. Said troubles were of the sneaking out and cutting class variety, but by far the most frightening was Miki’s alcohol consumption. In her teen years Asuka was a rebellious little shit, but she never drank as much or as young as Miki did. This was a problem Asuka had no skillset of resolving. Before motherhood Asuka let anger guide her through life’s troubles but that would not work here. She did her best to manage Miki with the facsimile of a sympathetic-yet-firm parental figure but this often fell apart. Asuka’s temper boiled over at some of the worst times. This led to Miki skipping class more, sneaking alcohol more, and putting the scholarships they so desperately needed in jeopardy. Without realizing it Asuka had switched to the world’s side.

All this was normal teenage drama at least. In this Asuka had the comfort of knowledge that billions of mothers have faced these struggles and emerged with love and sanity intact. But there was another worry that gnawed at Asuka in the quieter moments. There was a secret doubt, a terrible suspicion that Asuka dared not vocalize. Was Miki a little too perceptive? Did she pick up on things a tad too easily? Miki could read body language to a point where it was a little uncanny. And thus a horrible notion percolated at the back of Asuka’s mind. If true, it would mean her poor daughter would never be safe.

It was concern for her daughter that was keeping Asuka from sleep this night. There had been an earthquake just past midnight. It was a minor shake-up, but enough to tumble Asuka from her slumber. For a couple minutes Asuka pondered if she should check in on Miki, to make sure nothing had fallen on her of course. It most certainly was not an excuse to make sure her daughter hadn’t snuck out again. After a soft knock on Miki’s door and a slight call of her name Asuka gave Miki a few token seconds to respond. Those pleasantries out of the way Asuka slid the entrance fully open. Asuka was met with a window left slightly ajar and a cool salty breeze that wisped in the room. A pillow and plush Totoro had been stuffed under a blanket in a poor attempt to emulate the sleeping form of a teenage girl. A familiar fury was kindled in Asuka.

It was times like these Asuka really wished she had more room in their tiny rental home to pace back and forth in anger. Phone in hand Asuka stormed in a circle, sending texts and leaving messages every couple of minutes. Asuka had even messaged her own mother, which was a mistake as she was sent back a series of recollections of similar stunts Asuka had pulled at Miki’s age. After an infinity of livid stewing there inevitably came the sound of forlorn steps from outside. Asuka swung the door open in righteous fury.

There Miki hung, carried between two terrified teenage boys. Both were lanky with greasy skin and ill-fitted shirts. Asuka had seen them before; Miki said she hung out with them because they were the only boys that never hit on her. Miki lifted her head. “Mom?” she slurred, “What are you doing up? Isn’t it a school night?”

“Tomorrow’s Saturday,” said Asuka, momentarily bewildered.

“Oh,” said Miki, “As you were then.” Then she passed out.

“You two! Put her on the couch!” Asuka snarled at the two skittish boys, and they obeyed, pausing only to kick their shoes off. “What the hell did you give her?” demanded Asuka.

“Nothing!” one stuttered, “we were just drinking by the pier!”

“Drinking what!?” The other boy extended a shaky hand holding an empty bottle of Gray Goose vodka. “Damn it,” Asuka muttered to herself, “I was saving that.” Then to the boys she snapped, “okay, what else? Did you slip her something? If you did so help me I’ll stick a badger up your intestines and watch it chew its way out!”

“No!” said the first boy, now looking sick, “We, we were mixing it with pineapple juice.”

“You got her THIS wasted on pineapple juice?!” demanded Asuka.

“NO!” spoke the other, “We were taking it slow. But then the earthquake happened and she freaked out. Drank the rest on her own. Threw most of it up on the way back home.”

Asuka grabbed the nearest boy and starred directly into his watering eyes as she articulated with precision the following words: “What Do You Mean, _Freaked Out_.”

Miki stirred on the couch and immediately all three sets of eyes were on her. “We’re so small,” she whimpered, her lids still shut and her brow wrinkled. “It’s finally awake, it’s so hungry. It’s so impossibly old. And we’re all so, so small.”

In that moment Asuka was struck with a dose of pure fear, like she hadn’t experienced in fourteen years.

“She’s been talking like that since the earthquake happened,” the second boy offered.

“Get out,” Asuka commanded, pushing both to the door. “Get out now and if I ever see either of your greasy faces again I’ll feed you your own pancreas. Pancreases? WHATEVER! OUT!” They both scattered, just grabbing their shoes as they fought to gain the greatest possible distance from Asuka in the shortest amount of time.

In her sleep Miki groaned and curled into a ball. “Oh honey,” cooed Asuka to her daughter, while brushing her hand across Miki’s forehead.

“I fucked up again, didn’t I?” Miki murmured in response.

Asuka decided it would be unhelpful to chide her daughter’s language. “Miki, dear, can you get up? I’m going to get you to Grandma’s. Understand?” Miki nodded and slumped herself forward, then pushed herself up into a standing position. Asuka held onto her daughter for balance and guidance and together they moved forward. The sun was beginning to rise as Asuka helped her daughter into the back seat of her Honda Civic. The long night was about to become a longer day.

 

|><|

 

Asuka’s mother had long retired from Monarch. She had worked there as a medical doctor but was well respected in circles far beyond the monster hunting organization. These days Grandma Saegusa spent her time with an unofficial seat of power at Japan’s Ministry of Health. Consequently if she ordered a doctor to pay an immediate visit to analyze a few blood tests it was done so with no hesitation and no questions asked.

Right now they were waiting for the results of those tests. Miki had slept well into the afternoon, snug in a giant western-style bed in the Saegusa estate’s guest room. It brought shame to Asuka, thinking of the mere cot she had been able to provide in their small rental. There was plenty of space on the bed so Asuka lay next to her daughter, idly streaming her hand through Miki’s pixie cut while they waited. The only visual clue that Miki’s father was a foreigner was her lighter-than-average hair so Miki dyed it ink black. The kids at school sometimes teased Miki for the way her ears stood out. Asuka didn’t have the heart to tell her that was another trait of her father.

It had been a two-hour drive to Grandma Saegusa’s estate. The house was made from imported oak and set on a tall hill. Framed photographs of Asuka’s parents shaking the hands of foreign dignitaries adorned most walls. Asuka supposed she should be living closer to her mother, but retired or not the woman was still too close to Monarch. Now Asuka feared her efforts to steer her daughter clear of that organization might have been doomed from the very beginning.

In the late afternoon Miki stirred and awoke. The young woman was halfway through her first stretch of the day when she realized where she was. Asuka could see the memories of the previous night run through her daughters head by the look of horror and shame they printed on it. “Mom?” Miki squeaked.

“I’m here baby girl.”

“I must have messed up big time to wind up at grandmas,” Miki deduced.

“Don’t worry about that right now,” said Asuka.

“Oh shit. Did I finish the last of your Gray Goose?” Miki then remembered.

“That’s not important,” assured Asuka.

“You should be way madder at me,” said Miki with suspicion. It was then that she noticed the bandage where her blood was drawn. “Oh god, am I dying?”

“Not today, I think,” spoke a new voice. Grandma Saegusa stood in the doorframe with the same smugly amused expression she wore most of her life. “Miki’s toxicology screen came back. Aside from the fact she had a blood/ alcohol level of .2 she’s clean. No hallucinogens, no inhalants, no amphetamines, not even a little good old fashioned THC.”

Miki looked grave. “What? No! Why would you think I was on anything like that?” She paused to consider recent events. “Oh right. I thought I saw monsters. I had a waking dream or something. It was weird. Can you hallucinate with just alcohol?”

Asuka exchanged a grim glance with her mother. “I think I should leave you two to talk this out a bit,” said Grandma Saegusa, “Miki dear, I’ll cook you up something nice and greasy whenever you’re ready to get up.” And with that the younger two generations were left alone.

“Here,” said Asuka, giving her daughter a tall bottle of water, “drink up. You’ll feel better.”

“I’m sorry,” said Miki between gulps, “I don’t mean to drink so much.”

“Have you developed an addiction?” asked Asuka.

 “I don’t think so,” Miki responded, “It just helps keep things simple, helps me forget.”

“What do you need to forget?” worried Asuka.

“People,” Miki said, “There are just so many people. All with their own troubles and fears and hopes. I don’t know how everyone else can just focus on the people closest to them. I don’t know how everyone shuts out the rest. When I drink it’s the only time the world feels simple, when the world feels like just me.”

“What makes you feel responsible for everyone else’s problems?” responded Asuka, “Miki, you’re only fourteen years old.”

“I don’t feel responsible,” said Miki, “They’re just there and I can’t pretend they aren’t.”

“What sort of problems are we talking about?” Asuka asked, “What sort of things can’t you ignore?”

“You know,” Miki said, “Everyone’s worried about money, about being lonely, about what they look like. And a lot of people think my ears look weird when they see me. You know, the way they stick out.”

It wasn’t on her face but deep down Asuka was rolling her eyes. “Miki,” Asuka said, “You a perfectly beautiful young woman. Your ears-”

Asuka didn’t get a chance to finish her reassurance. In horror Miki reached up and pushed her ears back against her head. “Oh no,” she said, “did I get these damn things from my father?”

The world seemed to freeze. “What made you guess that?” Asuka asked through forced calm.

“Well you looked at my ears and then my hair,” dismissed Miki, “it wasn’t hard to figure out what you were thinking of.”

“Miki,” spoke Asuka next, “Your waking dream with the monster, do you remember anything from it?”

“Oh sure,” said Miki, “It was pretty vivid. There was this insanely giant creature. It was like an insect- kind of. It also looked a bit like a robot. It had these scythe-like hands, big silver wings and its face looked like one of those chompy things you use to pull out staples. It just woke up after a million years or something and was going to flood the world with its young and kill us all. I never had a dream so intense, it felt so real. Like I could feel the thing’s hunger and its hate. I was terrified.”

“But it doesn’t feel scary anymore?”

“Yeah, I had a second dream not long after that made me feel better. I think it might have been after we arrived at Grandma’s. The staple-chomping monster was going to find a mate, hatch a billion babies that would swarm the world. But then a third monster heard the first one wake up, and he was rising from the ocean depths to take out the other two out before they could reproduce. It felt like he heard me when I screamed and kind of growled back that he would take care of this.”

While steadying her breath Asuka asked, “Was this third monster like the first two?”

“No,” said Miki, “he was reptilian. Almost looked like a mix-up of a bunch of dinosaurs, but he wasn’t really a dino. He was like some kind of god-lizard.”

 

|><|

 

“Turn on the tv!” Asuka demanded of her mother.

“Which channel?”

“Any channel!”

Grandma Saegusa lifted a remote and turned on the big living room television. The vision that hit the screen was that of a goofy-looking cooking show. Asuka took the remote and began flipping through the channels. There was a poorly dubbed American cartoon, an ad for cup-o-noodles, a Korean soap opera. Finally Asuka turned to JNN, but all they were reporting on was a protest over a Chinese waste treatment plant. There was a slight relief from the horror in Asuka’s chest. “Mom, what’s been happening in Monarch lately?”

For this Asuka got a shrug. “I’m retired,” Grandma Saegusa said, “I’m not in the loop. I know Dr. Russell has another kid now.”

“Dr. Emma Russell?” asked Asuka, momentarily distracted, “Poor kid. And I thought I was bad mother material. What about Dad? Have you heard from him?”

“No one’s heard from your father for months,” said Grandma Saegusa, “And I have no way of contacting him. Sweetheart, please, will you finally tell me what’s got you so worried?”

After a deep breath Asuka started pacing back and forth across the living room, bracing herself to give her fear words. To her shame Asuka was trembling. “In the Temple of the Moth, Eric shot me three times in the abdomen.”

Grandma Saegusa cringed. Asuka knew her mother still blamed herself for what happened, for not being able to see through Eric’s façade, so Asuka didn’t linger on this point. “At the time Miki couldn’t have been larger than a pea. When Mothra healed me, however she did it, I think it may have greatly impacted Miki’s development.” This was it, Asuka knew, she had to actually say the words out loud. As her eyes began to water, Asuka galloped forward. “Mom, Miki can read minds. She’s telepathic.”

“Oh honey,” Grandma Saegusa began.

“Many of the legends surrounding Mothra suggested she might have telepathic capabilities herself,” Asuka interceded, “Some of that mojo could have rubbed off on Miki somehow. We’ve seen weirder things! Do you remember the space amoeba? Because I remember _the goddamn space amoeba_!”

“Point taken,” Asuka’s mother conceded.

“Miki doesn’t know she’s doing this,” continued Asuka, “she thinks she’s just reading off body language. It’s not like she’s listening in on someone’s internal monologue. But she always knows what people are thinking about, what they worry about, what they fear. That’s why she drinks. It’s the only way she knows how to turn it off, find some peace. But that’s not the worst of it. Mom, I think she’s picking up the minds of Kaiju.”

Asuka’s mother no longer looked skeptical. Instead she looked grim.

“I never let anything Monarch related in our house. Giant monsters played no part in our lives. I never even let her watch Ultra Q. Yet just now she pretty much described to me the Big Guy. She even called him _The God Lizard_.”

“No one’s seen him since 1954,” Grandma brought up, “He could be dead for all we know. Why would Miki sense him now?”

Asuka didn’t answer, she didn’t have to. Chaos had broken out on the set of JNN. The anchors had been given a new copy to read but they rejected it and were arguing on air with their producers. After some emphatic incidence from the producers the anchors started reading the report. They spoke of some kind of disaster ongoing in Hawaii involving monsters. But of course since they were speaking Japanese the actual word they used, was _kaiju_.

 

|><|

 

For most of the planet it was like the world had been turned upside down. For Requiem Jones it was like everything had been set right again. In truth Req found it comforting to see the rest of the world go through the same existential freak-out she had only a few months before. As everyone now knew, there had been a monster gestating in a chrysalis in the ruins of a Japanese nuclear plant. It caused an earthquake when the beast finally hatched and escaped the Monarch containment facility that had been built around it. The creature was referred to by the generic name of M.U.T.O. by the military men, short for massive unidentified terrestrial organism. The name stuck to the media’s lips and it was never called anything else. In appearance the beast was somewhere between an insect and a robot with scythe-like arms, a clawed beak, and a pair of wings that had no trouble launching this gigantic beast into flight. The Muto wasted no time snatching nuclear submarines from the ocean to feed off their radioactive payload. Next it invaded Hawaii where it wandered onto the Daniel K. Inouye International Airport and met the public. The military attempted to strike at the monster but all their efforts seemed to do was annoy the beast. Yet the Muto would not go unchallenged. It was being hunted by another monster.

There was a few moments of footage taken from inside the airport that had now been seen by most of the people on the planet at least a dozen times. Airplanes were being torn apart by the Muto in plumes of fire. The crowd from inside the airport screamed in powerless terror. Then a foot crashes into frame. The crowd turned silent. The Muto turned and shrieked at the newcomer. The camera pans up to show a charcoal-gray reptilian beast. It was dinosaur-like in shape, but god-like in stature. The scarred and snarling monster’s face opened in a roar that sounded like a trumpet of the apocalypse. Godzilla, king of the monsters, had returned to the world.

The Muto did not bother to try an attack on the newcomer. It opened its wings and fled to the skies. Godzilla dove back into the ocean in chase. The United States Military was left to flank the beast in its pursuit. For a couple days every channel had helicopter footage of aircraft carriers and battleships following the giant spines of the Titan. Around then the second Muto appeared.

This new Muto was female, much larger than the male and unable to fly. It emerged from a Nevada nuclear waste dump and rampaged through the Los Vegas strip. Requiem had to remind herself that this was a tragic event that was not at all amusing to watch. The fact that the planet now had a breeding pair of killer Kaiju was not lost on the world. If the two Mutos met and spawned it would be a very real threat to all of humanity. Worse still the two were communicating somehow; both were moving directly toward each other. As luck would have it the Muto meeting point was in one of the United States’ most populous cities. The monsters were due to mash in San Francisco.

The American military’s actions during this nightmare were a case study in inept fumbling. Their plan was to set a giant nuclear bomb safely out to sea. Its tasty radiation would attract the Muto’s, Godzilla would follow, and with a bang the shockwave would hopefully kill all three monsters. This prodigious strategy hit a wee snag when the male Muto grabbed the armed and ticking nuke before the military men could place it away from the city. The bomb was lovingly set it in a Muto nest that had been trampled into San Francisco’s China town. When the sun set that night the Muto’s were laying their eggs, a nuclear bomb was set to extinguish a major American city, and Godzilla had just rose from the ocean to confront the happy couple. The final embers of daylight were consumed as the fight began. Electronics did not work close to the Mutos. It was too dark for anyone to see what was going on. Vigils were held. The streets were quiet. The planet held its breath and waited. 

When dawn arrived both Muto’s were dead. The male had been impaled by a building, the female’s head had been torn off and was floating in the San Francisco bay. The nest and all its eggs were nothing but smoldering ash, the nuke had been safely detonated off shore, and its deadly radiation had been absorbed and consumed by the survivor of the night’s battle. Napping in the wreckage was a triumphant monster king. In the light of the early day Godzilla stood, gave one last roar of victory, and slid back into the ocean. In some of the footage Req recognized in the background Doctors Vivienne Graham and Ishiro Serizawa marveling as they watched Godzilla return to the sea. No doubt they would be very busy people in the days to come.

Thus began a new age of monsters. The formally clandestine organization Monarch was now on everyone’s lips. Monarch officials now had to go on the talk show circuit to help inform and guide the public. Their primary message was that this was only going to get worse and that humanity was going to have to change to survive. There was one redhead Monarch scientist Req loves to listen to in particular. She was Dr. Elsie Chapman, a paleontologist who was an expert in dealing with snide talking heads that had passed as journalists over the previous decade. Req loved the fear that hit their eyes whenever they tried to talk over Dr. Chapman and got their throats torn out in return. Figuratively. So far.

The way Dr. Chapman described it was like this: We think of “the ice age” as single event that occurred between the end of the dinosaurs and now. In truth ice ages came and went all the time in earth’s history. Heck there were ice ages in dinosaur times, complete with woolly tyrannosaurs and fuzzy duck-bills. Each one would last about 12,000 years, an eternity to a human but a mere nap to a creature hundreds of millions of years old. It was theorized by Dr. Chapmen that the Titans hibernated through these glacial periods. It was during the last ice age that the human race emerged and spread across the planet. By an astonishing coincidence the climate grew much warmer after humans got settled in, inadvertently signaling a wake-up call to the true rulers of the Earth.

Most of the Titans were only discovering now that some hairless monkeys had built large nests in their territories. Signs of new Kaiju were being discovered daily. Seismologists would find a massive creature somehow burrowing through pure magma. In Tanzania the remnants of an enormous spider-web was found with the exsanguinated corpses of an entire herd of wildebeests dangling from the sinewy ropes. A mountain in Mexico was now swarming with bear-sized dragonfly larvae that were being used as a food source for something much bigger. It was now a question of how the Kaiju would react to the primates squatting of their land.

Humanity’s reaction to these revelations however was sadly predictable. A good number of people, particularly in the United States, argued we should just slaughter these monsters and take our planet back. Whenever a Monarch agent was questioned along these lines they assured the hawk that a war against the Titans was one humanity would absolutely lose. The warmongers never seemed to comprehend those words. On the even less rational side religious groups were split on witch set of end-time prophesies these events were fulfilling. Some said Godzilla was the beast from Revelations; some said he was god’s judgment on humanity, and a scary number of people formed their own Kaiju-centered doomsday cults. All the while Monarch’s official recommendation was to find a way to peacefully co-exist with the Titans by forming alliances with the monsters that might be more sympathetic to humanity. As these opinions came from experts with decades of experience with the subject matter they were largely ignored.

Shortly after the Battle of San Francisco Req sat her brother and her sister-in-law down to explain to them with what really happened on her last filming venture. They were shocked of course to find one of their own families already had a run-in with a Kaiju. Req on the other hand was more at peace with the events as she had ever been. Finally Req fit with the universe again. In fact as soon as she had had her family meeting Req dug out the card Dr. Serizawa had given her with the number to Monarch’s recruitment desk. The time had come for Requiem Jones to get back to work, and she had a feeling Monarch would be expanding its workforce right about now.

 

|><|

 

Asuka and Miki never returned to their small rental home. Without anyone directly mentioning they had both moved in with Grandma. For the first few days Miki didn’t even bother going to class but she was hardly alone. Until the Battle of San Francisco was over the whole planet had come to a stop. The three Saegusa women barely spoke in that time; they were just glued to the news. When it was clear that the planet was not going to be overrun with baby mutos it was time for questions. “How did I dream about these monsters before anyone saw them?” asked Miki, “I know you know. But… I don’t know how I know you know.”

There would be no way to keep Miki out of this, Asuka realized. “Miki honey, it’s time I told you about my old job. And Grandma’s old job. And about your… fairy godmother.”

“Fairy God-Mothra!” Grandma Saegusa suggested from the kitchen.

“Yes Mom,” Asuka sighed, “You’re being super helpful here.”

 


	4. Discovery and Defense

 

 

August 11th, 2014, Otaru, Japan

 

It was a new day, in a new city, in a new country, where Requiem Jones was about to start her new job. Req had been given a small, modestly furnished apartment with a medium-sized bed and a basic set of necessary utilities. For a woman who had previously lived in a basement and before that a boat Req felt she was being pampered. Nice as the apartment was Req probably wouldn’t spend a whole lot of her time here. The Monarch base Req would be working at was a fair journey away and she would be given a room there for overnight stays so Req would probably only be spending time at her cozy new apartment on the weekends. Req had a few hours to settle in before her first workday began, but she would not be doing so. After sixteen hours on a plane Req’s muscles whined at her in neglect. So Req peeled on her jogging outfit, opened her Lorde-dominated playlist and left to take a quick run around the neighborhood.

After she passed a couple streets Req was already to declare Otaru one of the most gorgeous places she ever lived. It was not a large city, it wasn’t trying to inspire awe and install a sense of power. Instead it felt like home, full of peace and tradition. Every building showed the imprint of generations and was built right into the ocean. The residents filled the ancient structures with color. Flowers, trees and ivy grew from every break in the stone. A sea breeze disarmed the august heat. It was hard to imagine that half this neighborhood was working in secret to keep all of civilization from being swallowed up by monsters.

About halfway through Req’s run she noticed the sky had darkened considerably. A splot of cold water lander on her nose, and a few darkened circles appeared at her feet. Req would defiantly need to learn the signs of incoming rain in her new home, or at least remember to check the forecast until then. Just as Requiem prepared to dash home a long black car pulled up to her. A man in a suit jumped out and opened the back door to Req. “Pardon me, miss,” an unseen man said in English from within the vehicle, “I see we’re about to have a bout of rain. Might I offer you a dry ride home?”

“No thank you,” Req said curtly.

Just as she was about to jog off the man responded. “Please Ms. Jones,” he said, “I merely wish a moment of your time. This concerns your new job. I think you’ll want to listen to what I have to say.”

Requiem closed her eyes and quietly muttered a string of expletives to herself before turning back to the open car. She rose one arm to show her smartphone with her thumb planted inside. “I have an app open that is reading my thumbprint. If I remove my thumb for more than two seconds an alarm will sound and a message will be sent to the local police. In my second arm you’ll notice my pepper spray with my finger on the trigger.”

“Understood, Ms. Jones,” said the man in the car, “Please, step inside.”

Without adjusting her scowl Req slid into the car’s black leather upholstery. There was a seat opposite her where a Caucasian man about fifty years of age sat. He was trim and muscular, well groomed in a gray suit. He held a black cane shaped like a crowbar that Req would bet was only there to intimidate. His eyes were an ice cold blue. His black-suited servant tried to wrap Req in a seatbelt but she shooed him away with the pepper spray. “Just drive careful,” she commanded.

The gray man looked amused with Req. “Thank you for taking some time from your busy schedule to speak with us Ms. Jones,” he said.

“Say your piece,” she responded.

The gray man sighed. “I do understand my cadence is a bit ominous,” he began, “I’m afraid that is the price of my business. I need to make people understand I am a serious man working for serious men. And woman, of course.”

He spoke with a subtle accent that was difficult to pin down. “Continue,” Req said, demonstrating no emotion, “be succinct.”

“Monarch is a threat to humanity,” said the gray man, “There are many in the organization that mean well, and are good people, but as a whole they are the absolute worst possible group to deal with this Kaiju crisis. At its core Monarch is a cult that worships these monsters while pretending to protect us. Did you know Monarch was founded in a secret meeting on an unknown pacific island, the events of which is still classified and buried to all but a handful of human beings? We don’t know who was there and what they set out to accomplish. Did you know that Monarch built a facility around the male Muto and just watched it gestate in its cocoon for fifteen years without ever attempting to kill the thing? They protected the beast, just let it hatch and fly away. They have the blood of thousands on their hands. Monarch sees these creatures as gods, and they are willing to sacrifice countless human lives for welfare of these monsters.”

“And I assume this is not the mission of you and your men? And women of course?” Req asked.

“We represent an alternative to Monarch,” said the gray man, “One that does not treat city-killing beasts as sacred. One that will put people first. I won’t lie and say that those who fund me aren’t a bunch of rich bastards. But they are _human_ bastards worried for the survival of our own species. Our chemical weapons are all designed to take out humans, useless against Kaiju. Nukes actually make them stronger and conventional arms bounce right off. As it stands we have nothing we can use to defend ourselves.”

“Then make new weapons,” shrugged Requiem, “I’m sure every military in the country is scrambling to develop new Kaiju killing weaponry. I’m sure anyone would be happy for your help.”

“Ah,” said the man, as if Req had made his next point for him, “But we don’t have Monarch’s resources, we don’t have Monarch’s intelligence, we don’t have their personal. For sixty years they have horded every discovery for themselves. Everything there is to know about Kaiju is hidden in their vaults. Think how valuable that data could be in our defense. Monarch will never part with their secrets willingly though, least of all those who want to fight back against their precious monsters.”

“Ha!” said Req, happy to have finally gotten to the point; “You want a spy!”

“I am asking that you keep your eyes open,” said the grey man, “Just look and you’ll see Monarch’s true intentions. They do not have our interests at heart. I will not insult you by offering decadent amounts of money for their secrets. The money would be yours if you ask of course but I trust you’ll work for us in the end because it’s the right thing to do.”

“And how do you know I won’t turn this around and work for Monarch to get the secrets of your own fine men?” Req asked, “And women of course.”

The gray man shrugged. “I don’t. But you have to take risks, you have to move forward. Regret is a luxury only the dead can afford.”’

The long black car parked in front of Requiem’s apartment. The gray man handed Req a plain white card with a single phone number written in red. She took it with a couple spare fingers. “We will not bother you again,” said the gray man, “I trust you will see the truth and stand up for your species. Contact us when you’re ready.”

The servant in the suit opened the door and let Requiem out. She quickly rushed to the dry shelter of the new home, disabled her emergency app and slid the pepper spray across her kitchen counter. Looking at the cryptic card Requiem muttered, “Great, now I have a collection of these things,” before flinging it in the general direction of her desk. As Req disrobed to take a shower she replayed the words of the gray man in her head. It was then she was able to pin the man’s mild accent. It was Russian.

 

|><|

 

A long hot shower and bowl of miso soup later Requiem was ready to get to her new job and find out what they actually wanted her to do. There was a bus stop a couple blocks away that would take her directly into Monarch’s Japanese base. After double and triple checking that she had all the special ID’s she would need Req wrapped herself in a trench coat and took the umbrella that had been thoughtfully placed just inside the door. The umbrella was transparent; as Req traveled the streets she realized all the Japanese umbrellas were transparent. It made her wonder why this wasn’t the standard the world over.

At the bus stop was one other woman. To Req’s surprise it was a woman of Indian decent. She was young, with large oval glasses and a tall, regal-looking nose. Wrapped up in a brown rain jacket she looked like the human avatar of an owl spirit.

“Konichiwa!” chirped the young woman at Req’s approach. With a wave Req returned her greeting. After a moment the girl pulled out a Japanese phrasebook and began, “sumimasen…”

Req cut her off with a wave and a shake of her head to show she didn’t speak Japanese.

“Est-ce que tu parles français?” the girl asked hopefully. Req shook her head. “English?” she asked next.

With a snap and a smile Req responded, “I speak English!”

The owl girl lit up. “Yay! A common language!”

“So we’re both non-Japanese. Are we going to the same place?” asked Req.

The young woman put her hands together and flapped them in mimicry of a butterfly.

Req couldn’t help but laugh. “Requiem Jones,” she introduced holding out her hand, “you can call me Req.”

“Jenya Ammal,” Jenya Ammal responded, taking the hand, “wow that’s a hell of a handshake. Geeze look at the muscles on you!”

Req instinctively blushed. “Thanks, I guess,” she said. Then she noticed Jenya’s eyes dart to the usual places, the red dreadlocks, the African features, the aggressive freckles. To spare Jenya the question Req just announced. “My father’s Jamaican, my mother Irish. Hence the look.”

“Oh, so sorry!” Jenya chirped, “I didn’t mean to stare! You are madly, _ridiculously_ beautiful.” Jenya’s eyes bulged and her cheeks turned purple when she heard her own words, then she immediately jumped into another question. “So what is it you do for, um, the organization?” she asked.

“Honestly I don’t know yet,” confessed Req, “They just offered me a job without specifying what that job is. It’s my first day so I guess I’ll find out soon. But I was a dive specialist before, leading scientists and photographers on underwater expeditions so assuming I’m not here to clean toilets it’ll be something like that.”

Jenya stood about a foot shorter than Req, she looked up at the diver with awe in her eyes. “You mean you’d be out doing field work? You are so freakishly brave. Heck I’m scared to jelly working here and I’m just a folklorist. It’s my first day too! Sorry if I talk too much. I babble when I’m nervous and I’m almost always nervous.”

“No worries,” assured Req, “Where are you from? How did you get the job?”

“Oh well,” flustered Jenya, “I was born in India, lived most my live in Paris though. I got noticed by Monarch when I discovered the Tiamat from Babylonian myth is the same being as the chaos snake Apep from Ancient Egypt, as well as the Serpent of Obsidian Knives of the Aztec. It’s pretty much a multi-headed apocalypse dragon. It also might be ‘Monster Zero’ a theoretical Kaiju that might have killed 99% of life on this planet 250 million years ago and could be currently frozen in the artic somewhere. But it’s fine, I’m sure it’s fine. Monarch will find it and keep it from waking up. So there’s nothing to worry about. We’re good! What brought you here?”

“My team had a brush with a Kaiju near Indonesia,” Req explained flatly.

“Oh my goodness!” Jenya gasped, “Was everyone okay?”

“Only I survived,” Req told her.

The bus arrived then, which was good because Jenya had been struck with silence. “And you’re going to go back out there?” she finally said as they entered the vehicle.

“I want to do what good I can,” Req explained, “Besides. I don’t think there’s anywhere safe enough to hide.”

The two sat next to each other. They talked music, weather, life in Japan. Jenya knew of a gaijin-friendly bar nearby and they vowed to get drinks together first night that they had off. The bus gradually grew crowded, to a point the two foreign women didn’t feel free to talk. After the bus hit its last stop it kept driving with still a dozen passengers inside. There were fewer buildings in the windows and soon nothing but vegetation. One of the passengers, a nondescript fellow dressed as a common salary-man began checking everyone’s identification. Req and Jenya were the last two to be checked. They both pulled out their Monarch ID lanyards from around their necks. The bus stopped at a checkpoint where members of the Japanese Defense Force spoke with the driver and opened a gate. “First day on the job?” the ID checking man asked in perfect English while he gave them a welcoming smile.

“Yes sir!” Jenya insisted. Req just returned the smile and nodded.

“Very good,” said the man once the cards were checked. “Welcome to Monsters, Inc.”

The bus moved forward, it dipped suddenly and the sky was overtaken by darkness. They now drove down an underground tunnel into a chamber of frightening size. There several other vehicles joined in from different directions. The rest of the passengers on Req’s bus were nonplused, bored even, but Req could not help but be impressed by the size of the operation. If the slack jaw on Jenya’s face was any indication she would agree. “This isn’t even Monarch’s main base,” whispered the Indian girl to her companion, “Their central base is underwater. Somewhere in Bermuda. This is just the R & D center.”

“Oh,” said Req. This she had not known. “I suppose you’re the R and I’m the D.”

Their ride came to a stop and the two women quickly exchanged phone numbers while the other workers disembarked. There was constant echo reverberating throughout the underground facility that made it feel like a parking lot in an airport. All the new arrivals made their way to a large entryway into the facility proper. Above it was a giant metal representation of the Monarch logo. Below it was their mantra: “Discovery and Defense in a Time of Monsters”.

There was a short-haired Chinese woman waiting for Jenya. “Dr. Chen!” Jenya exclaimed. The doctor held out a hand to shake but got a hug instead. As Req’s new friend was led away she heard Dr. Chen talk about how happy they were to have her. Before Jenya was lost to the crowd Req saw her pull out a phone and begin to type something. Seconds later Req got a text. “Catch you later, D! - R.”

Req was just about to start wandering around in the hopes of finding her way when she heard a voice shout, “Ms. Jones!” and saw a man in a lab coat jogging in her direction. He paused when he reached her, a tad out of breath. Once he got his composure back, the odd man gave her a bow which Req awkwardly returned. “I am Goro Ibuki,” he said, “head engineer of this facility. Please, this way!” Then he bounded away in another direction.

With some hesitantly Req followed. The man Goro was a bit bewildering to Req. Goro dressed like he had traveled through time from the 1970’s. Under the lab coat was a pea-green turtle-neck matched with mustard yellow bell-bottoms and what looked like combat boots. Completing the look was a head of scruffy, shoulder-length hair. After a couple hallways and stairwells Req was brought to a quiet room with a secretary standing guard. She gave the flustered man a folder and exchanged a bow with Req. After flipping through some black and white photographs he thanked his secretary and then seemed to suddenly remember Req existed. “Oh please! Come in to my office, Ms. Jones!” he offered.

“Thank you Dr. Ibuki,” Req said as she entered, “Please just call me Req.”

“And call me Goro,” Goro insisted, “Ibuki is my father’s name. Also I don’t think I ever actually got a doctorate.”

Goro’s office was a mess, and not just because it had shag carpeting. There were stacks of paper on every surface, most containing equations and diagram. Several models of submarines were set up for display. His desk contained five computer monitors and half a dozen others were mounted into the walls. One of them Req could not help but notice, was labeled “Godzilla tracker” and showed a blip in a map of the pacific ocean along with an estimated travel path. “You’re tracking him?” Req gasped.

“As best we can, ever since San Francisco,” Goro explained, “He does vanish now and then but we’re able to find him again without too much fuss. Showed up near San Diego when Comi-con was on believe it or not. Obviously we don’t offer this tracking to the public. We don’t want people harassing the big guy every moment. Oh yes, that reminds me, I have a folder for you somewhere.”

At that Goro took a dive into his desk paperwork. When it became clear this would take him a while Req turned her attention to one wall where a green mask was displayed on a special shelf. Req looked closer. She guessed it had to be Mayan but it didn’t look entirely in their style. For one thing it looked like it had been precisely carved from a single stone of Jade. It also had weirdly triangular eyes, a coned head, and a wide smile that made it look a tad like Jack Nicholson. There were three surveillance camera’s looking at the thing.

“That’s a thing of beauty, isn’t it?” pined Goro. “We found that in the Temple of the Jaguar, built right over a fossilized Kaiju. The mask has unusual properties I’ve never been able to noodle. Every time I try to measure its density I get a different reading. Also I’m pretty sure it changes its size slightly when I’m not looking at it. That’s why I have those cameras on it. Haven’t caught it in the act yet….” Goro trailed off staring at the mask for a couple beats before snapping to. “Oh, here’s the folder, Ms. Req!” he said, handing it to her, “should get you caught up on stuff. Or the not-classified stuff anyway.”

A casual flip through the folder revealed it to be a list of known or suspected Kaiju. There was one page that immediately caught Req’s eye. It was a still shot of a single giant flipper taken from the video Req captured on that fateful dive a year ago. Under it was written:

Current Name: Manda

Unknown Serpentine Titan

Discovered by: Requiem Jones

Encountered August 5th 2013 in South China Seas during an altercation with another Kaiju (unknown, suspected to have been Titanus Gojira or Yog Gezora)

Size: Impossible to estimate

Temperate: Unknown, assumed hostile

“As discoverer you have naming rights if you wish to change it,” stated Goro, correctly assuming which page Req had focused on.

“No,” Req said, “Manda is fine.” There was a silence between the two before Requiem ventured to break it. “Um, Mister, uh, Goro. What is my job here exactly?”

“Oh yes!” Goro said with a great clapping of his hands, “Oh me, oh my. I’m afraid you are not finding me at my best Miss Jones. My husband you see, Hiroshi, he works with Monarch’s counter-intelligence division. He sometimes has to disappear a few weeks at a time, and when he does so I get a bit anxious. And easily distracted.”

“Your husband is a… spy?” Req asked, she leaned forward and noticed a framed photo on Goro’s desk. It showed him with his arm around another man, presumably Hiroshi. With them was a young boy clutching a toy dolphin. “Your son?” she asked.

“Yes,” Goro answered before backtracking, “Well younger brother technically. Our mother was a bit old to be having children but our father insisted. She didn’t survive the birth and father fled so Hiroshi and I have been raising Rokuro as our own. And yes Hiroshi is pretty much a spy.”

“Do scientific organizations usually tend to have spies?”

“They do if they tend to get spied on,” said Goro. He twirled nervously in his seat. “Okay,” he confessed, “I’m not sure if this is classified information or not but I hate this Mulder-CIA-spook bullhoony and you deserve to know so I’m going to lay it all on you. Monarch has way bigger enemies than the creatures we study.”

“Like who?” Req asked, trying hard not to convey much emotion.

Goro grimaced in concentration, looking for the right words. “Monarch was founded shortly after World War II,” he began, “The dawning of the nuclear age began waking up the monsters and the world’s leaders were scared, yatta yatta yatta. More than a dozen countries decided to dedicate their intellectual resources to this cause. The threat of the monsters was so great that no matter what went on between individual nations they agreed they would keep their scientific channels open. Monarch was supposed to be prioritized over politics and war. But of course that was not to be. No one anticipated the Cold War between the United States and the Soviet Union to get as chilly as it did. The Russians pulled out of Monarch and formed their own organization. They called it Red Bamboo.”

“Discovery and defense was not Red Bamboo’s mission,” continued Goro, “They were specifically aiming to control and weaponize the Kaiju. I’m not going to pretend the Americans acted as saints. They wanted to find a way to turn the Kaiju into war machines as well, just that Monarch refused. For a while we lost almost all American funding, until Skull Island was discovered and reminded everyone what we were dealing with.”

“Wait, was the existence of Skull Island ever released to the public?” Goro paused to wonder, “That might be classified too. Oh whatever. Who cares? Anyway, after the Soviet Union collapsed Red Bamboo was ‘officially’ dissolved. But of course it didn’t. Red Bamboo still exists, only now that it’s been untethered from the Russian government it’s become a goddamn terrorist organization. They still work to weaponize Kaiju, but now to sell their technology to the highest bidder and exert influence on hostile governments. And I’d bet the internal organ of your choice they still have contacts in the Kremlin. They’ve stolen from us, infiltrated us, and… they’ve killed people. Friends. I would take any Titan you can name over Red Bamboo. They are why we have a counter-intelligence unit. They are why I spend half my nights worried sick about my husband.”

Requiem didn’t know how to respond. She felt like she had had the wind kicked out of her. Thankfully Goro spoke again before she had to. “They’re also a good reason why you’re here today,” he said, “We know you had a chance encounter with a Kaiju. We’ve vetted your past and concluded that you are very unlikely to have any ties to Red Bamboo before that. And that is why we’re going to trust you with this.” Goro handed Req a small square of dull silver metal.44

“And this is?” Req asked.

“Well if you run it through a mass spectrometer it will say it’s titanium,” said Goro, “but it has very, very unusual properties that separate it from normal titanium. For example, it can grow and heal itself like living tissue. Also wrap it around any matter and that matter becomes as incompressible as water. Ah, I see by your expression you understand the application potential.”

“That would negate atmospheric pressure,” Req said in shock, “You could travel to the bottom of the Mariana Trench without getting crushed. But that’s madness. How on Earth could it do that?”

“I can’t tell you,” said Goro, “Also I can’t tell you anything about how it works or how we got it. Sorry. I hate CIA spook stuff, but we know Red Bamboo desperately wants to get its hands on this stuff and the fewer who know how to get it the safer we are. All I can tell you is we’re calling it Titanium S, and I can’t even tell you what the ‘S’ stands for. That’s the straight poop.”

“Got it, no complaints,” Req assured the engineer, “but are you saying you can build a submarine with that stuff?”

“We already did,” said Goro, before backpedaling, “Well we made a prototype. It’s currently… unavailable. But we’re making another. Not sure where the first one is but we know Red Bamboo doesn’t have it and that’s what counts.”

“But it will work,” continued Req, “We could actually travel to the bottom of the ocean.”

“More than travel in fact,” said Goro. He stood, popped a hidden panel in a wall beside his desk, and pulled out a helmeted diving suit. It had the same dull shine as the metal square of Titanium S.

“No way,” Req amazed.

“Made from fibers painstakingly woven from Titanium S, with the same effect on atmospheric compression,” explained Goro, “We won’t only be able to visit the ocean floor, we’ll be able to walk on it, which finally brings us to you. I need you to help test these suits, to understand every thread on them, and to be able to train others how to use them. And then, when the time comes we need you to help lead teams of Monarch scientists when they venture out into the deep oceans. I’ve sure you know many of the aquatic Kaiju enjoy the bottom of the abyss as a resting spot. If we’re going to learn to coexist with the Titans we’re going to have to understand where they live and meet them where they are. Are you cool with all this?”

“Fuck. Yes,” Req enthused.

Goro looked pointedly at a jar of coins on the side of his desk. It was labeled with hand-written kanji that had been taped to the side. Just then Req noticed in smaller letters below that in English the words “swear jar” were written. She tried not to roll her eyes as she pulled out her wallet.

 

|><|

 

Req had been given a room at the Monarch facility if she wished to stay the night there, but for this particular night she wanted to get back to her apartment. The bus ride back would have been long and lonely if Req hadn’t spent most of it on the phone with Jenya.

“You have to see it,” Jenya said of the Monarch library, “They have all these ancient texts in special vacuum-sealed climate controlled vaults. From all through history and across the world. It’s like if the library of Alexandria was all about monsters.”

“Any good leads?” asked Req as she opened the door to her place. It was well into the night. At least everything in the apartment was in the same place she had left it. Req half expected to find the place torn apart by the gray man, whom she was now certain worked for Red Bamboo.

“Too many,” lamented Jenya, “Humans are way too good at making shit up. It’s a process figuring out what monsters are imaginary and which could be the result of a Kaiju encounter. There are a lot of stories suggesting there might be a spider Kaiju in southern Africa, but then ALL fantasy stories have giant spiders in there somewhere, so who knows?”

While Jenya talked Req pulled out the old business card Dr. Serizawa gave her. Req also grabbed the card the gray man gave her this morning. “I think I speak for everyone when I say please no spider Kaiju,” Req asserted as she tossed both cards in the microwave and turned it on.

“It could be worse,” said Jenya, “There’s a volcano in Mexico swarming with these things that are like dragonfly larva but they’re the size of horses. They almost ate a bunch of people.” Req was only half-listening at this point. As the microwave whirled and cooked the two business cards the one Serizawa gave her was completely unaffected. On the Red Bamboo card something metallic began to sizzle inside it. A glowing red bit of wire peeled out of the paper and curled.

“Jenya, I just got home, I think I’m going to have to cut you off,” Req told her friend.

“Sure,” said Jenya, “talk tomorrow?”

“Count on it, R,” Req promised.

“Later D,” said her friend.

The line beeped dead and Req put down her phone. After pulling the two cards from the microwave Req took some tweezers and pulled the cooling metal coil from the one the gray man had given her. Was it a tracking device? A listening device? Req didn’t understand electronics well enough to guess. Whatever that thing was supposed to do, it wouldn’t be doing it any more. A flush of the toilet removed it from Req’s life. Maybe Goro was full of lies. Maybe Monarch was everything the man in gray said it was. But if Req had to pick someone to trust, it would be the odd scientist with the swear jar nervous for his husband and raising his baby brother. It would be the organization that did not take the first opportunity to spy on her. From this moment on, Requiem Jones was on team Monarch.

 

|><|

 

The ocean was calm, almost freakishly so. This was a blessing for the small crew of the _Fortune of Komodo_ , but for some reason it felt like an ill omen. Banyu was the ships’ captain, at least in his own mind. During Banyu’s less confident moments he knew his true title could be more accurately described as ‘the boat’s owner.’ It was two in the morning when they reached their destination, but the crew could not bring noise or light to this grim hour. What they were doing here wasn’t strictly legal. In fact it was hard for Banyu to see what they were doing as anything but grave robbing.

The spot of sea where the _Fortune of Komodo_ now bobbed on had been an island only a few years back. Even in the merger moonlight Banyu could see the frames of houses left below the surface. This small village below was the first major casualty of the rising of the ocean. The smarter and younger residents had left years ago but the stubborn or elderly had to be helicoptered away before a typhoon delivered the island’s final blow. It stood to reason that some of them had to have left valuables behind. It was that hope that brought Banyu and his crew here tonight.

There was only one scuba suit between them so the crew took turns foraging. They avoided the homes closest to the surface, assuming those had already been picked clean. So far the other homes they had checked weren’t any better; all they found so far was a few metal trinkets. They would keep at it until dawn. There was no telling when their luck would change.

A giant spool of nylon rope hung over the rim of the boat. Each diver took a lead in case there was something too heavy to pull up on their own. There was a single tug on the diver’s end, the sign they needed a bit more slack. Banyu rolled them out a few dozen meters more. It was his turn next to go into the black water, not something he looked forward to. There was another tug, then two more. That was it, wasn’t it? That was the sign something expensive had been found. For a single precious moment Banyu had thought that at long last something in his life had gone right. Then the line was pulled taught. Something on the other end tugged one horrible sickening tug, one so strong the _Fortune of Komodo_ began to tip. Whatever was holding the line changed direction, the nylon carved chunks out of the wood as it pivoted toward the back of the boat. The thing holding the line rushed toward the horizon. The spool spun like mad, producing a plastic-tinted smoke before the whole thing was torn off its hinges and flew into the night air. It must have traveled thirty feel before Banyu heard the spool spelunk into the water and disappear.

 Banyu had two other men on board this night. “Boss?” one asked. They were all thinking the same thing. They had all seen the footage of what was rising from the ocean these days.

“Don’t make a sound,” Banyu whispered, “turn off every light. I’m going to make my way to the cabin. I’ll turn on the engines from there, we’ll get out of here fast as we can.” They only had a couple of low lit torches, but Banyu’s men put them out. He knew this boat by heart, he didn’t need to see. Careful step by careful step Banyu made his way to the cabin. The monster that swam off with the spool went north. If he went south at full speed maybe he could avoid a second encounter; just so long as he didn’t do anything to attract its attention back in this direction before he was mobile.

In truth it only took a couple of minutes for Banyu to reach the cabin but it felt like hours. The rusty door turned open and his boot hit metal on his way in. With arms outreached Banyu aimed his palm to where he knew the throttle to be. He was so concentrated on it Banyu almost didn’t notice it when the shadows in the room shifted.

But they did shift. There was now an extra silhouette where there was supposed to be a window. There was someone else in the cabin, or possibly something else. The shape looked human enough, but it was off in a way Banyu didn’t understand. Instead of the throttle Banyu now reached for the shotgun by his steering wheel. The visitor shifted. It was now looking at Banyu. The moonlight hit its eyes and shined off them like a cat’s, and these eyes were too large to belong to a human. With a lunge Banyu grabbed his shot gun, set it, aimed and fired on the intruder. It hid the ground in an ear-splitting screech. Banyu’s sense of triumph was short-lived. From outside the cabin, five more silhouettes now stood. Their oversized eyes too glinting back like a cat’s and Banyu realized that if these things had the eyes of a cat they could probably see in the dark.

Banyu stumbled out of the cabin, not sure where he was trying to go. There was no sign of his other two men. He turned his shotgun around and aimed at the darkness. Two webbed hands grabbed Banyu’s face from behind. The shotgun fired in the air as Banyu was pulled backward. He fell, expecting to hit the wooden deck. Only he didn’t, Banyu kept falling until he was submerged in cold water. Franticly Banyu kicked to push himself back to the ocean’s surface, but two more hands clutched his legs and dragged him to the depths. Banyu’s final scream was filled with salt water. Flashes of light passed Banyu’s vision as his brain spluttered for oxygen. When the last of them faded there was nothing of Banyu left.

 

 


	5. Meet and Greet

 

 

August 16th, 2014, Otaru, Japan

             

              Under a microscope Goro sauntered the final servo together. After waiting a couple moments for the metal to cool, he grasped it with tweezers and inserted the servo into an open-nest of metal and wire. With the slightest of clicks the device found its place. Piece by piece Goro closed back up the casing around the jumbled electronics. Once sealed, it returned to the form of a disembodied robotic arm. “Okaaaay,” Goro muttered to himself, “Let’s see if that helps matters.” After typing a bit of code in a nearby laptop the fingers of the robot arm fluttered in the air a bit before the hand curled in a confident thumbs-up. The index finger still lagged in formation, but it was an improvement.

              Goro was about to open the casing back up to make further adjustments when he caught the whisper of a familiar aftershave. Goro instinctively relaxed and moments later two strong arms wrapped around him from behind his chair. A kiss touched his unshaven cheek. “You know, when most people can’t sleep they watch TV or do a crossword puzzle, they don’t build robots,” Hiroshi whispered into his husband’s ear.

              “You knew I was a mad scientist when you married me,” Goro protested, reaching up and clutching Hiroshi’s arm. “How long will you be staying?”

              “Not long,” said Hiroshi, “I’m sorry. I’m only here to touch bases.”

              Goro groaned in displeasure. “I’ve already tucked Rokuro in for the night,” he said, “Check in with him before you leave, will you? I worry he might begin to forget what you look like.” The scruffy scientist tried to free himself from Hiroshi’s embrace but Hiroshi held him tight,

“That’s not fair,” Hiroshi insisted.

“I know,” granted Goro, “I know what you do you do for the greater good, I know there’s no other way. I reserve the right however to be annoyed and frustrated and petty about it.”

              “I suppose I can live with that,” said Hiroshi, breaking the embrace. Goro turned in his chair to see his husband in his effortlessly suave glory. He wore his favorite clay-red jacket and held a peeled orange in his hand like he was about to give it a Shakespearian soliloquy. “Can’t risk scurvy,” Hiroshi explained, before taking a bite.

“So what bases did you want to touch?” Goro asked.

“Red Bamboo scored a win,” Hiroshi said with a grimace, “A big one. Professor Yuhara. I had a hunch they might be after him, I had a couple people trailing the guy for protection. Now they’re dead and he’s missing, along with his ten-year-old daughter.”

“The name sounds familiar. I’m sorry…”

“Expert in wetware, in bridging the gap between neuron and circuit. He’s most famous for his work with insects. Installed electronics into their brains and took control. With a push of a button he was able to get them to walk where he wanted. Even used a freaking playstation controller.”

“And now the people who want to make Kaiju into war machines have him,” concluded Goro.

“Yeah,” spoke Hiroshi, “And his daughter, which will make it easier to force his hand. The situation is dire, not going to lie. I’m trying to track where they took him. We still don’t have a clue where Bamboo is based, but there’s a chance we can grab Yuhara back before they get him there. I’ve got about thirty agents on this.”

“What do you need from me?”

Hiroshi made a faint clucking sound with his tongue, as he did every time he was about to say something he’d rather not. “There’s something else that has Bamboo excited. Or worried, it’s hard to tell,” he told Goro, “Chatter from some of our plants says Bamboo is suddenly very interested in something called the Drowned City. Does it ring a bell?”

“I’ve heard references to it before,” recalled Goro, “This is a real place?”

“Red Bamboo thinks it is, and they think they’ve found it somewhere in the Galathea Depth of the Philippine Trench. From what I can tell Bamboo is salivating over some opportunity the Drowned City represents, but they are also being uncharacteristically cautious about exploiting it. There’s a danger there, something they can’t just throw expendable personal at.”

“Galathea is nearly 35,000 feet down,” Goro exclaimed, “Red Bamboo doesn’t have the technology to reach that deep.”

“Not yet,” Hiroshi agreed, “but it’s only a matter of time before they find some way of harvesting what they want from the site. I’m sorry to ask Goro, but I need you to find and secure whatever is in the Drowned City before Bamboo does. That means we can’t wait to build another submarine. We need to get the prototype back. We need the Atragon. And you know who we need to talk to to get it.”

“Yes yes,” Goro conceded.

“Tonight,” insisted Hiroshi.

“Tonight,” Goro reluctantly agreed.

 

|><|

 

On the other side of the bulky oak dining table there was a hiss and a click of a soda can. Asuka’s daughter took a couple contented slurps of Dr. Pepper and beamed at her mother. Miki’s new addiction to sugar and caffeine should be of some concern, Asuka supposed. After the battle of San Francisco though, not a single drop of alcohol passed between Miki’s lips. If soda was the compromise, Asuka would take it.

At the center of the table was a stack of palm-sized cards. On one side of each was a black finish, on the other a simplistic illustration. From the top of the stack Asuka pulled out a single card. She held the black side to her daughter while the crude picture of a dog was revealed to Asuka’s eyes on the other.

“It’s a dog!” Miki responded in an instant.

The next card showed Asuka a sail boat.

“Boat!” shouted Miki.

Asuka was taken aback. Her daughter didn’t even have to concentrate anymore. The first time they tried this exercise Miki took several minutes to find the answer in her mother’s mind. Now it was instantaneous. It was remarkable how far her daughter had advanced in just a few months. The excited young woman in the opposite chair was unrecognizable from the blank-faced ghost wallowing in shock in the aftermath of Godzilla’s return. After Asuka and her mother confessed to Miki about their family’s history with Monarch’s monsters and how a moth deity may have rendered her telepathic Miki fell into a trance. For weeks she barely spoke, and Asuka had been worried the blunt truth had broken the poor girl. Then Miki came to her mother and grandmother and announced her intention to master her abilities. From then on Miki was a changed woman. Once the absurdity of her situation was properly absorbed and Miki understood what had been “wrong” with her all this time she worked to exact control over what made her unique. In a few weeks Miki had learned to block out minds enough to live in peace. Now she was focused on using Mothra’s gift to her advantage.

The next card Asuka pulled was odd. It was an eye symbol from ancient Egypt but Asuka forgot what it was supposed to be called.

“The… evil eye?” wondered Miki. Asuka turned the card to let her daughter see. “Oh, that’s the Wadjet Eye,” she realized, “we learned about that in school.”

“So you can read what I’m thinking about the cards, but you can’t see what I’m seeing,” concluded Asuka.

“Kind of,” Miki agreed, “I feel like the image is there, but it’s hard to pick out. The visual part is just lying in your head passively. But your thoughts on the image are active and at the tip of your brain so it’s hard to pick up anything else. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, I get what you’re saying. How is it normally?” asked Asuka, “like when you read people who aren’t trying to be read.”

“Depends on the mind,” said Miki, “School was the worst, I absorbed everything. Even now it can be hard work to block out a building full of screaming hormones. You’re super guarded, so I only get the occasional accidental snippet from you when you’re mad or nervous. Grandma’s damn near impenetrable.”

Grandma Saegusa drifted by with a satisfied smirk and a plate of butter cookies. “Thought you might like a snack,” she mentioned as she let the dish slide on their table. They were on theme, shaped like little human brains.

“Thank you Grandma!” sang Miki while she nibbled a cookie, “I feel like it’s possible to see more, I just don’t have the tools I need to learn.”

“Give a mom a break will you?” groaned Asuka, “There isn’t a YouTube tutorial for training your daughter’s telepathic powers.” Asuka pulled up another card. It was a box turtle. As a girl Asuka had a pet like it, but she pushed that thought down to test if Miki could still parse out that information.

“Turtle,” said Miki after a swallow.

“Do you pick up anything else?” asked Asuka.

“You had one as a pet. Oh, and that you got the idea to do this card thing from some old American movie,” Miki mentioned dismissively.

“Hey! Ghostbusters is a classic!” counted Asuka.

“It hasn’t aged well,” said Miki glibly.

After a long glare Asuka just said “You’re grounded.”

“Does that mean we won’t be going fishing tonight?” Miki teased while beaming mischief.

Asuka was struck with another swell of love for her daughter and her shit-eating grin. “We’ll see,” Asuka said. Miki knew this particular exorcise was one Asuka couldn’t resist. Hopefully the Taser was already charged. If it wasn’t though the baseball bat worked well enough.

“Let me try something,” Miki announced. She grabbed a card of her own and held the black side to her mother. Asuka met her eye and found her daughter staring at her in sharp concentration. At first there was an unpleasant prickly sensation along the surface of Asuka’s brain. She nearly jumped from her seat from the willies it gave her. But then the prickly feeling subsided and a thought occurred to Asuka. The card Miki was holding had a bee on it. It didn’t feel like Asuka figured this out on her own, it was like she had been told this. Only no words had been spoken. “It’s a bee,” Asuka said timidly.

Miki’s eyes sparkled. “The flow of information, it can go both ways!” she announced. It was another milestone breached. At this rate Miki would be a damn Jedi knight by Christmas.

“More American movies,” Miki tutted, “Your childhood in the States ruined you.”

“Don’t push it,” Asuka warned.

 

|><|

 

“Cheers!” sang Req, her cold beer clinking against Jenya’s plum wine. They started the night trying sake, but fast returned to their comfortable favorites. This was a foreigner-friendly bar. They served what must have been every available form of alcohol to be found the world over, but after a heady week in a strange new land both Req and her friend were thirsty for something familiar. Which was the point of this place, Req supposed.

“So as I was saying, some of these things beyond imagination,” Jenya buzzed, “There’s this one we caught on film back in 2001. It burrows through the ground by melting rock into magma and just swimming through it. Weird thing is this monster is goddamn adorable. It looks like a cross between a lizard and a pug but with a unicorn horn and these big floppy ears. Called Baragon if I remember right. I wish I had a picture to show you. He’s not on any of the public lists. We lost track of him in 2004.”

“Should you be telling me all this?” Req wondered. The tests she had done on Goro’s diving suits had to be done in total secrecy.

After a long pause Jenya conceded, “possibly not.” Then Jenya’s phone buzzed, she took a look and rolled her eyes hard.

“Trouble?” asked Req.

 “Nah,” Janya groaned, “Alex Jones just announced that he thinks Kaiju don’t really exist and that the footage on the news was just people in rubber suits smashing miniature buildings.”

“The world can change but people never do,” Req commented. She couldn’t help but notice some others in the bar checking their phones and reacting in exhausted disgust. She wondered how many people in this bar worked for Monarch. There wasn’t anyone else Req recognized but the organization was vast. People of all ethnic backgrounds filled the pub; listen closely and you could pick out conversations in a half dozen distinct languages.

None of them looked like tourists either. At the table to the right of Req were a number of African women with colorful headdresses in a heated debate that involved drawing the occasional diagram. To her left was a group of Norwegians drinking flavored vodka and making hand gestures that included fangs and claws. The décor in the place was simple to the point of absurdity. Everything was unvarnished wood, and only lanterns and house plants adorned the walls. Tiny flags of every conceivable nation hung on arcs of string. This place went out of its way to be as culturally neutral as possible. Yet still there were pockets of Japanese people about; well Japanese _men_ anyway. They hung out in groups, all in white shirts and colorful ties.

“I was warned about them,” Jenya mentioned as she noticed where Req’s eyes landed. “Pervy locals with a thing for foreign women. They think if they drink here enough they’ll be able to land some white blond twenty-year-old. I supposed a chubby Indian girl doesn’t have much to worry about them but still.”

Req was only half listening to her. There was one Japanese girl here, one that looked barely old enough to be in high school. In fact she was dressed in one of those school sailor uniforms Japan was infamous for. The girl was sipping a soda, conspicuously pausing to look around the bar every few minutes. It wasn’t so much the girl that concerned Req though as the man that was watching her. There was one patron that was giving Req the creeps. He had shown up with a pack of Japanese businessmen, only he wasn’t drinking and laughing with the rest. He was openly staring at the schoolgirl, only looking away when she turned her gaze.

“To be fair though,” Jenya confessed, “If there was a bar that Cate Blanchet hung out at I’d probably go there every night.”

The teen girl finished her drink, picked her backpack off the ground, bowed in thanks to the bartender, and made her way to the exit. It was that precise moment that the business man watching her broke with his friends and left in pursuit.

“Shit,” Req said before giving Jenya a light tap on the shoulder. “Come on, we’ve got to go.”

Jenya began to ask a lot of questions but to her credit as soon as they were outside she realized what was going on and turned silent. The business man walked carefully, not making any noise as he moved closer and closer to the teen girl. Req could match the man in stealth though, and was fast closing her own distance. The streets were empty and hushed, the buzz of the streetlights were the only sound to be had. The teen turned down a road where the lights did not reach. The man picked up his own pace to meet the girl in the shadows. Before he could though, he heard Req shout “MOSHI MOSHI!” before slamming both fists into the man’s face as he turned around. The businessman was actually lifted off his feet before his body slapped the pavement. The slightest of groans announced he barely held on to consciousness while blood gushed from his broken nose.

“That… was… BITCHIN!” Jenya joyfully exclaimed while Req shook the sting from her fists.

To the surprise of both the teenage girl stormed back, seemingly angry with them. “Nani o suru nda?!” she demanded.

This granted the teen two blank expressions. Jenya fumbled open her Japanese phrasebook and began flipping it in the hope of finding a response.

The schoolgirl shook her head and regained her composure. “English?” she offered.

“English!” Req agreed.

“Yes! We all speak English!” seconded Jenya.

“Colonialism is a hell of a thing, huh?” the teen sighed.

“No kidding,” Req concurred.

“My name’s Miki,” said the schoolgirl, “thanks for the help but I had it covered.” The girl swung her backpack around and pulled some duct tape from it. Only then did Req notice she was carrying a stun-gun. The young teen next started wrapping the would-be pervert’s arms and feet in the tape. He tried saying something but the next strip sealed his mouth. At this turn of events Req could only gawk.

“You lured him out on purpose? By yourself?” Jenya questioned.

“I’m not by myself,” Miki said casually, “My mom’s been watching this whole time and she’s got a Taser, a stun-gun, and a baseball bat. I’m just learning how to sense threats in a crowd and protect myself. I wasn’t in danger. It’s just fishing.” The businessman was now struggling in impotent rage while Miki wrote something in kanji on the man’s face with a sharpie. Req doubted it was flattering.

“You go fishing for perverts?” asked Jenya, “Is Japan really that bad?”

“Perverts are only incidental,” said Miki, “We mainly go out to make sure no one’s watching from Red Bamboo.”

In an instant everything about Miki changed. Before Req could even stop to wonder how this high school girl knew about Red Bamboo Miki jumped to her feet and aimed her stun gun directly at Req. Her eyes burned with mad suspicion. “You know that name!” she raged, her voiced rang across the empty streets. There was panic and fury in Miki that had not been there for would-be assailant. “Where have you heard that name?!”

Req didn’t get a chance to answer. Two metal prongs had entered her back and released their electric charge. It felt like being struck by lightning. Every muscle tensed up before consciousness blissfully escaped her.

 

|><|

 

A bright light blinded Req’s eyes as she awakened. Her mouth was dry and tasted of copper while her skull throbbed. Req’s first instinct was to jump to her feet, but that impulse punished her with pain in all four limbs. She was tied to the chair she was sitting on, her hands zip-tied behind her and her feet duct taped to each chair leg. “Jenya?” Req first asked.

“Here,” Req’s friend said weakly. Req’s eyes followed the voice and found Jenya slumped in another chair similarly bound. The young Indian’s face was hidden in the shadow of her hair. “Don’t mind me,” Jenya said, “just resting my eyes.”

Three figures stood near the blazing light. “Good morning,” one of them said. It wasn’t Miki, the voice sounded older.

“Miki’s mother I presume?” glared Req, “You fucking abducted us!? You tased us and then abducted us? What is wrong with you people?”

“When I mentioned Red Bamboo you recognized the name,” said Miki’s voice, “I need to know how you know that name. We can’t afford to mess around with anyone remotely connected with that organization.”

“ _I_ didn’t know it!” protested Jenya as she rocked in her chair, “I don’t know what the hell any of you are talking about!”

“How did you even know that I recognized the name though?” Req asked instead, “What are you, some kind of mind-reader?”

There was a long pause from the three shapes. “No!” Miki eventually protested, “Shut up!”

“I’ll make this simple,” said Miki’s mother, her voice full of oily menace. “Do you work for Red Bamboo?”

“No!” shouted Req, “I work with Monarch.”

“You wouldn’t be the first Bamboo agent to infiltrate Monarch,” spat Miki’s mother.

“I would _never_ ,” vowed Req through gritted teeth. Miki began to speak to the others in Japanese. An argument broke out between the three. Req couldn’t understand what they were saying but there was a lot of worry and doubt in their words.

When the voices came to a consensus Miki’s spoke softly in English. “But you have met them,” she stated, “You’ve spoken to the gray man.”

For the first time this evening Req’s gut dropped in genuine fear, only it was not for herself. “Oh my god,” she marveled, “you can, you really can. But how?”

“Can what?” demanded Jenya, “There’s a gray man now? What is going on??”

“Miki’s a telepath,” Req stated.

“Hey! Don’t just proclaim it like that!” Miki protested.

There was a blunt knock on a door not far away. “Shit. Who could that be?” asked Miki’s mother.

“Shhhhh! Turn off the lights! Turn off the lights!” insisted Miki. The harsh lamp went out and once her eyes re-adjusted Req could notice windows full of moonlight not far away. The knock came again and Req could hear a male voice calling in Japanese. There was a rush of whispering Japanese women about the room.

“In here!” Jenya called out before a hand muffled her voice.

There was a pause of absolute silence before the sound of a key entering a lock. The three women whispered in panic to one another. Whatever they were planning, they were out of time. The door opened and the house lights were switched on.

Goro Ibuki stood in the doorway bewildered. Before him were two woman tied to chairs while three others were crouched awkwardly by their side. For the first time Req could see her captors, clearly three generations of the same family. Their blazing interrogation light turned out to be a high-powered torch tied to a mop.

“Er, Hi Uncle Goro,” chirped Miki.

“Goro!” Req pleaded at her boss.

 “Req?” Goro said in shock, “What in blazes are you doing here?”

“You know each other?” asked the grandmother.

“Req is working with me on Project Fathom,” said Goro, “I’m afraid I’m unfamiliar with the other young lady.”

“Hi!” said Jenya as cheerfully as she could manage, “I’m Jenya, nice to meet you. I’d get up to shake your hand but… you know… kidnapped.”

 

|><|

 

It took about fifteen minutes but eventually the guests of the Saegusa family were cut free of their bonds. The grandmother of the family then handed out coco and cookies. Req nearly bit into one of the offered snacks until she saw it was shaped like a human brain and put it back.

“I can personally vouch that Requiem Jones is not in any way affiliated with Red Bamboo,” a flustered Goro assured the group, “She was recruited by Ishiro Serizawa himself. Yes the gray man tried to recruit her; Req told me this and gave me the card the gray man passed to her. She’s clean. As for the other young miss...”

 “Jenya’s clean too,” spoke Miki, “She one-hundred-percent innocent, never even heard the name before tonight. I’m sorry. I’m really, super sorry.” While the mother never stopped looking cocky and suspicious and the grandmother acted like this had just been a social call, Miki was clearly mortified by tonight’s events. The poor teen fought back tears and twisted a wad of used duct tape nervously in her hands.

To this Jenya immediately brightened up. Jenya had a big heart, but it held no room for a grudge. “No worries,” she said, reaching out and giving the teen a side-hug. Miki sniffled and gave a brave smile.

“Ah, well I guess that’s… sorted, is it?” asked Goro.

“Why don’t you ask what you came here to ask Goro?” said the grandmother. For the first time there was a sense of exhaustion in her voice.

“I’m sure you’ve guessed,” said Goro, “You know I wouldn’t ask if things weren’t desperate.”

“Things are always desperate,” spoke the Grandmother.

“Now they’re desperate-er,” Goro promised, “We’ve always tried to leave your family in peace but that’s not an option any more. You think Red Bamboo is bad now? They’re going to be a lot harder to hide from if they get what they want. We need to find your husband. We need to get back the submarine he stole.”

“Jesus what is it with this family?” Req muttered to the inside of her coco mug.

“Wait,” Jenya interrupted, “Your Grandfather stole a submarine? From Monarch?”

“My father is Captain Hachiro Jinguji,” Asuka explained, “He and Monarch had a falling out and he ran off with one of their experimental subs over a year ago.”

“I haven’t heard from him,” the Grandmother protested.

“But I’m sure you know someone who has,” Goro pressed on.

“I can help,” offered Miki, “I can try and find Grandpa for you.”

“That’s very sweet of you Miki, but I think this is a little beyond the help of a teenager,” said Goro.

“Even a telepathic one?” wondered Jenya in confusion. All three Saegusa women tensed.

“Yes,” agreed Goro, “Even…. wait, what?”


	6. Red Satan

Chapter 6: Red Satan

 

August 17th, 2014, Indonesian Sea

             

The ocean was, if nothing else, humbling. Humankind could build the largest, most technologically advanced machines its collective brain power could muster, but compared to the nigh-infinite depths of the sea these technological marvels would never amount to anything greater than a fancy tin can lost in the sunken abyss. In the past it was easy for Captain Curtis and his crew to ignore the scale of their situation. They lived in their own miniature universe- eating, sleeping and exercising within the circular submarine hull. Aside from Captain Curtis’ occasional glimpse through the periscope, they never had to look into the cold, dark and deadly universe that was held back by mere inches of metal. It had been easy to forget the abyss was out there before the battle of San Francisco. Now they knew there were things in the deep more than capable of demonstrating the fragility of Captain Curtis’s tin can and the smothering darkness these monsters swam in was never far from mind.

But Captain Curtis could hardly abandon his duty. Exploring and monitoring the deep of the sea would be paramount in this new age of monsters. It was in these depths that many of these old gods still slumbered, and it was where their king held his court. Unfortunately mankind’s ability to keep tabs on the abyss had not been in a sadder state since the first World War. Until last year nearly every submarine in service was nuclear-powered. It was by far the most efficient power source; with a nuclear reactor you could stay at sea as long as your food supplies held up. There really were no disadvantages until the similarly nuclear-powered Kaiju arose. It turned out any sub with a warhead or a reactor made an easy snack for a rampaging Titan. In fact when the male Muto emerged from its chrysalis the first thing it did was snatch a submarine from the sea like a pelican with a fish and crack it open over the jungles of Hawaii.

All nuclear submarines were put out of commission, and the few diesel-powered subs still serviceable were now doing double duty. That was how Captain Curtis and his crew found themselves aboard _The Blue Angel_. After a few days below the waves with this obsolete technology the crew was less-than-affectionately referring to the boat as _The Red Satan_. If it were up to Curtis this archaic husk would have been retired a decade ago. All he could do was radiate confidence so the men and women under his command wouldn’t be as nervous as he was banking their lives on decade-out-of-date electronics.

At least the higher-ups were being careful. Curtis had been ordered not to venture out past the continental shelf. Past the shelf was the open ocean, where seafloor dropped into the great chasm of the Philippine Trench. So long as they avoided the trench the bottom never went deeper than three-hundred feet. In the trench they could sink more than 30,000 feet. No rescue crew would find them down there.

The mission of _The Blue Angel_ was simple patrol and information gathering. A number of civilian ships either disappeared or been found floating unmanned in these waters. It was very possible a new Kaiju was making the Indonesian Sea its hunting ground. Blockades were set in place to keep all other human vessels from entering these waters. If Curtis was to encounter a potential hostile his orders were to hide, observe, and report back when the coast was clear. With nothing nuclear on board it was hoped _The Blue Angel_ wouldn’t even register on a Titan’s attention. This was not a dice throw Captain Curtis was comfortable making, but duty was duty.

The care _The Blue Angel_ was taking to stay hidden was also rendering them with little sense of their surroundings. There was to be no use of active sonar if it could be avoided. If anything else in the water made a noise they would use the ping to take a look at their surroundings but in stillness they were blinder than any bat. The only way of knowing the boat’s position was through a lot of careful calculation. Curtis didn’t know to what extent the Kaiju could trace sonar to its source, but he didn’t want to advertise their position any more than he had to. For now all they would do was stay still and listen hard.

“Captain?” asked Lieutenant Wilson, “I think you should hear this.” Her voice was the first noise to be heard on the command deck in six hours. She handed him a pair of headphones. At first there was just aquatic static but then Curtis heard a dull thump. After another pause the thump sounded again. “That’s coming from a mile south-west of here,” said Lieutenant Wilson, “There’s the sound of a lot of water being displaced and I found that noise in the thick of it. A couple years ago I would have guessed it was a fleet of tuna, wouldn’t have given it a second thought. But now sir?”

“Your opinion, Lieutenant?” Curtis asked.

“I’m worried that thump might be a heartbeat, sir. A single, very large heartbeat.”

Curtis was skeptical, but he and Lieutenant Wilson had worked together for nearly a decade and he trusted her gut over his own. “Very well, Lieutenant,” Curtis conceded, “Gentlepersons, let’s take her to rest on the seabed and focus our attention to the coordinates Lieutenant Wilson provides.”

The order was passed to navigation and engines. The Blue Angel slowly drifted downwards to rest on a bed of seaweed. It was a calculated risk to keep them as invisible as possible, while at the same time limiting their ability to react to any overt aggression. Three other men put on their own headphones and began scanning the area. All was quiet. And all continued to be quiet to the point of agony.

“Turn on the active sonar,” ordered Curtis, “Just a couple of pings, just to see what’s out there.”

The sonar was only active for a moment, but it was a moment Curtis would give anything to get back. He shut it down himself before his navigator had the chance. There was indeed something out there, a long snake-like mass just within hearing range, but it barely registered in Curtis’ attention. Right now his every brain cell was focused on the other object the radar revealed. It was a ship, not a submarine, nothing like Captain Curtis had seen before but definitely man-made. It was flattened, almost ray-like in shape, almost as large as the Blue Angel and hovering just above them.

Everyone in the command room had seen it on the radar screen and no one dared to breathe. Their lives now depended on their ability to keep quiet. The brief silence that followed cut like glass, but it was heaven compared to what came next. A vulgar thump hit the hull above them, followed by several others. Smaller bumps sounded above their heads, moving with the unmistakable rhythm of human footfalls.

“No way,” said one of the navigators. “No way in hell.” Some of the other crew shushed the man, but there was little good that would do now. They were well into the interloper’s interest.

The uncanny footsteps meandered a bit, but before long they moved with direction and purpose- straight towards the opening hatch.

“Shit!” Curtis shouted and leapt forward. Could it be opened from the outside? It would have to be depressurized, but there was no telling what equipment these people, if they were people, had available. Before the captain could even begin to ponder the question he had flown up the latter to the inner hatch.

“Sir!” Lieutenant Wilson shouted at him from below. A steel pipe was thrown upward; Curtis caught it and wedged the thing in the wheel that kept the ocean on the outside. A moment later the wheel turned. It turned with such force that the pipe was bent. Only bent though, it held firm. The wheel made a few violent lunges in both directions. Then fell still.

The crew was so motionless they might as well have been frozen in time. There were further footsteps; they ran back and forth and in circles on the metal above. A few minutes passed, and the excited movement of their unseen visitors slowed. A small amount of shuffling later and the steel was silent once more. It would be a couple moments yet before Captain Curtis could breathe easy again. His hands had turned white while they bloodlessly grasped the metal latter. He had to shake them out a bit before sensation returned.

“All hands to battle stations,” commanded Curtis at his return to _The Blue Angel’s_ command center, “Prepare torpedoes. We’re returning to a safe harbor but we might need to defend ourselves getting there. Turn on active sonar. There isn’t much point in hiding now.”

“Yes sir,” said the navigator. Everyone in eyesight of the monitor stilled their hearts as the first pings went out. To the extraordinary relief of all, the unknown ray-shaped craft had disappeared from view. But the collective exhale was cut short when the large snake-like shape was still present. Present, and fast approaching.

“RISE! Fast as possible! Brace for impact!” bellowed Curtis. The Blue Angel had barely begun to move when it was struck. Their entire world spun madly in the water. As suddenly as it had begun the spinning halted, throwing all aboard to the opposite wall. This was followed by the grotesque dirge that was the sound of all surrounding medal undergoing intense force.

“Oh god,” gasped the navigator, forcing Curtis’ eye to the sonar monitor. It showed a massive, bloated outline surrounding their vessel. Curtis could barely digest what he was seeing. The giant snake monster had wrapped around The Blue Angel’s hull, squeezing it- no, constricting it. The coils of the beast could be seen bending the steel around them. Rivets shot out like bullets.

“Fire torpedo!” Curtis screamed.

“That would-” Lieutenant Wilson protested.

“DO IT!”

There was one minuscule moment of peace before the explosion. The _Angel_ was tossed about like a weathervane in a hurricane. By the time it had settled there was an extra-large dent in one side of the submarine and several streams of water leaking between seams. At least the snake-monster had been dislodged. “Engines?” demanded Curtis.

“Working!” sang an engineer from the back.

“Get us to the surface and to the nearest blockade.” Curtis turned to check the sonar, and his heart dropped.

There wasn’t even enough time to give out a warning. With another sudden lurch a white pillar shot straight down and through the command center. Sparks flew and Curtis tumbled as _The Angel_ was dipped and dragged downward. It took a moment for Curtis’ addled brain to realize what he had been thrown against. When Curtis’ eyes adjusted he could see the yellow stains and odd curvature to the object now sticking through his command center.

It was a tooth- or rather a fang. The damned thing had bitten into their hull and was dragging them back down. The water streaming into the sub grew stronger. “Engines full back!” shouted Curtis. It was as much a desperate plea as a command.

There must have been someone in engineering still on their feet because the Blue Angel began pushing back against the serpent’s tow. The resistance would be short-lived. The submarine slammed down onto the ocean bottom and the engines spluttered their last. The seawater was halfway up to Curtis’ knees now. Still the monster dragged their crippled vessel across the seabed.

“Sir!” Lieutenant Wilson cried out, “Sir! The thing is dragging us to the edge of the continental shelf! It means to take us into the trench!”

Just as Wilson had said it, Curtis felt his ship run out of seafloor. It teeter-tottered on the edge of oblivion. “Your orders, sir?” Wilson begged of him.

The captain looked at his lieutenant. They had been allies, friends, for almost ten years. He was there at her wedding. He held out a hand to her. Trembling Wilson took it, and they embraced. The Blue Angel dipped and fell, plummeting into the abyss. The great tooth slid out from the ship, adding two great streams of freezing sea water into the vessel. It would take but a moment for them to drown, but it was a moment they didn’t have. The two friends shared their last bit of heat until the ocean’s pressure overwhelmed them. The implosion was sudden. Before the sub’s crumbled husk could dip into the soot of the trench, a small black box had shot upward to the surface. It contained a complete record of the Blue Angel’s last voyage, and a signal to alert the attention of Monarch.


	7. Brave Mu World

Chapter 7: Brave Mu World

 

August 18th, 2014, Otaru, Japan

             

Dawn arrived and with it came another magical Monday morning. Jenya Ammel loved Monday mornings. The weekends were not without their appeal, Jenya supposed. There was a very comfortable apartment in the town where Jenya could enjoy a book and bath. It was always fun to hit the night with Req of course. But really the weekend was just a forced palette cleanser that Jenya endured to get back to work on monsters. The work made Jenya giddy on a muscular level. There were times she had to sequester herself to squeal with joy when she discovered something fresh and wondrous. The world was changing, the first gods were returning, and Jenya was there with them holding the microphone on the red carpet.

So with heart aflutter Jenya rose to meet the day. There was a small European-style bakery not far from her lodgings. At the risk of turning herself into a French stereotype, Jenya bought an almond croissant with a dollop of locally raised honey for breakfast. She would take the long route to the bus to take her time with her meal and see the bay in the dew-mist of the early hour. But when she turned the corner, Jenya walked into a war.

Ishikari Bay was littered with warships and submarines, beyond that were the hazy outline of aircraft carriers on the open ocean. Jenya recognized flags from China, India, Indonesia, Japan’s self-defense force- and of course a few American ships found their way into the crowd. Soldiers were everywhere, but they were listless, standing and looking about with no obvious understanding as to what their current duties entailed. Jenya had a nasty suspicion that her employer was connected to this gathering.

“Jenya!” called a male voice. A familiar collection of colors assaulted Jenya’s senses. Red suspenders, a white shirt, a radioactive yellow bowtie, and a tuft of mango hair- Phillip was a gentleman that was always easy to pick out from a crowd. He was weirdly confident in his terrible taste, something Jenya almost found admirable. They worked in the same department under chief mythologist Dr. Irene Chen. Jenya liked him; he was supremely easy to talk to.

“You know anything about this?” asked Jenya.

“Not much,” confessed Phillip, “I just heard that all research projects have been suspended. Everybody’s being reassigned to investigate the Lost Empire of Mu and something called ‘The Drowned City’. Nick’s team has been dispatched to try and find natives of islands on the South China Sea that had to be evacuated due to rising sea levels. Specifically told to find the oldest people they could. Not sure what that means though.”

Before Jenya could respond a terrible roar came from above. There was a moment of monstrous horror in Jenya’s brain before it flagged the cacophony as more engine-based than monster-based. Before Jenya could even look around to find the source of the fuel-choked scream the entire sky was engulfed by a sleek black V-shaped aircraft headed in the direction of Monarch’s allegedly secret base.

“Putain de merde!” Jenya shouted over the dissonance, “Is Batman working for Monarch now?”

“It’s the Argo,” shouted Phillip. He was only inches away but Jenya could barely hear him. “Monarch’s flagship. If it’s here then I’ll bet yen to doughnuts that Serizawa is paying us a visit.”

Jenya began to vibrate, and she honestly couldn’t tell if it was from terror or excitement. These days it was difficult to separate the two.

 

|><|

 

So far Jenya had seen no sign of Requiem. The bus in to Monarch was more crowded than ever, but Req’s maroon dreads and faultless freckles were no-where to be seen. Jenya had sent a series of increasingly troubled texts until finally Req sent a message back: ‘ _im fine- with goro in test chamber- see u at meeting_.’

The fact that Req managed to get to work before Jenya was almost more ominous than the warships in the bay. This was also the first Jenya had heard of any meeting, but the text was enough to set her fretting on pause. Jenya just hoped they didn’t have to hang out around Goro’s test chamber when they met up. That thing gave Jenya the willies. It was a gnarled cylinder of water with massive magnetic compression plates on each side and cables thick as human arms pouring from every corner. The thing was supposed to simulate the pressures of the deep sea. All their unmanned tests had already been finished, so now Req had to put on Goro’s newfangled diving suit and climb into the terrifying contraption herself. Watching her friend sink into a device designed to crunch Req into pulp twisted Jenya’s stomach into a ball. Now Jenya could barely stand being in the same room as the machine.

The entry station was packed when Jenya arrived, yet it was also unusually quiet. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath. If Jenya had not had her path memorized she might have had trouble finding her department in the bustle of humans mostly taller than her. With path unseen Jenya managed to find the big oak doors that led to her lair of the library. Written above them was the mantra of the folklorist, “myth is our compass.” Or at least that’s what Jenya was told was written there. She couldn’t read Japanese yet.

The Monarch library was now the inverse of the entry station, full of panicked conversation in the place of its usual respectful silence. The map room was packed and every desk occupied with unfurled topographic maps and population charts. There was a group of linguists hastily translating digital copies of some ancient scrolls by hand, and from the images Jenya could see on their screens no two shared even a basic alphabet. A couple of Jenya’s fellow Mythographers were carefully tracing over and comparing a series of cave paintings. Just about the only person not working feverishly was the department head.

Dr. Irene Chen stood, arms folded and leaning against a wall. It looked like Jenya’s boss was waiting for someone. That person, Jenya was terrified to discover, was her. As soon as Jenya entered the department Chen’s eyes locked on her and she started striding intently toward Jenya’s position. Up until now Dr. Chen had been one of the more amiable people Jenya had ever met. Now her eyes were locked on Jenya seething with suspicion.

“Good morning, Ms. Ammel,” Dr. Chen began. “We’re in a bit of a panic this morning. Would you happen to have any insight into what this is about?”

“No!” Jenya protested, “I’m as confused as anyone!”

“I ask,” Chen said precisely, “Because I’m about to attend an exclusive meeting with the heads of several Monarch departments and it was requested specifically that I bring you along.”

“Ah,” squeaked Jenya, “I may have accidently overheard some scary supernatural secrets and inadvertently ended up in some important circles of confidence.”

“Oh,” Chen said, relaxing, “In Monarch that’s the easiest way to score a promotion. Come along, this way.”

Chen led Jenya down a path Jenya recognized as the way to Goro’s office. “Is it true Serizawa is here?” asked Jenya.

“Dr. Graham too.”

“Serizawa is the head of Monarch, right?” Jenya queried, “I was never sure how that worked.”

“Yes and no,” explained Chen, “On paper Serizawa doesn’t have an official title, he says Monarch should learn to achieve balance among its own if it is to achieve balance between man and Titan.”

“Oh. So if I understand this right, Monarch doesn’t have a single leader, but the reason it doesn’t have a single leader is because Serizawa said so.”

“Pretty much.”

Goro’s long-suffering assistant recognized them both and waved them into his office. It really felt more like a nest than a workplace, with papers and diagrams in haphazard piles and pinned to the walls. The only thing that stayed in the same place from one day to the next was the weird grinning jade mask that Goro perpetually recorded on video. The ever-shifting chaos of Goro’s office was such that it took Jenya a moment to realize neither Req nor Goro was present here. Instead, lounging around Goro’s desk was Asuka and Miki Saegusa.

Everyone froze in place. Eyes beamed wide but no one was looking at Jenya. Chen and Asuka stared at one another without either daring a blink. Chen broke first. Her chin trembled, her eyes watered. “I knew it,” Chen squeaked, “I knew you were still alive.”

“Irene,” croaked Asuka and her own countenance dissolved. She hopped over the desk and the two women embraced. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. We didn’t know who we could trust.”

“I don’t care,” promised Irene while she was giving Asuka’s chest the most feeble of punches, “I don’t care. All that matters is you’re still here!”

Jenya exchanged a look of embarrassed exasperation with Miki. _Hey Jenya!_ came Miki’s words to Jenya’s brain. The folklorist tried not to wince. She still wasn’t used to this; it was like remembering the words had been said without the sound actually bouncing off Jenya’s eardrum. _Sorry, still practicing!_ Miki telepathically promised.

It was then that Irene seemed to notice Miki was there for the first time. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, still bewildered. After brushing away a few tears Chen added, “Pleased to meet you, Miss?”

“Miki Saegusa,” said the teenager with bow. Dr. Chen returned the bow and slowly rose back up. The dawning comprehension was telegraphed on her face. “Yeah. My dad was a piece of shit.”

“Now now, no reason for language like that!” intoned an incoming voice, “though I believe we can forgo the swear jar for today.” Goro Ibuki swept into the room, sideburns and bell bottoms in full glory. Behind him followed Requiem in a sweaty tank-top. She gave Jenya a jaunty smile and wave. Req’s skin glimmered in perspiration that made her toned edges shimmer and left her freckles flush with an even deeper shade. When Req tilted her long neck back to take a swig from her water bottle Jenya had to look away before she visibly swooned. Miki was there to meet Jenya’s gaze and she offered Jenya a sympathetic grimace. Also with them was Miki’s grandmother in a professional pantsuit. She gave the air of a polite but firm quality control inspector.

“Please everyone grab a seat,” Goro instructed, “There are more chairs around the desk. Good, thank you.” He palmed about the ceiling before finding a tab and dragged down a projection screen.

“Oh good, I’ve missed Viv’s slide-shows!” Asuka enthused while they dragged seats into a semi-circle around the screen. There was a click and a wall slid open. The last two participants had arrived, Dr. Ishiro Serizawa and Dr. Vivienne Graham. This was the first time Jenya had seen them in person, and she slinked a bit in her seat. Everyone here was either a brilliant scientist, and kick-ass field worker, or a telepathic teenager. All except Jenya, who was only here because she had been in the right spot at the right time. A rock-like lump in Jenya’s gut told her what a fraud and pretender she was. Perhaps sensing this Req reached over and rubbed Jenya’s back in an attempt to stroke her confidence. Jenya couldn’t say it had the intended effect, but it definitely distracted her from her own inequalities.

They took turns shaking hands, bowing, and greeting one another. To Jenya’s surprise Serizawa said, “Pleased to finally meet you, Ms. Ammel,” before Jenya could give him her name. When Serizawa turned to Miki’s grandmother though, everything turned still.

“Ishiro,” said Miki’s grandmother.

“Emiko,” Serizawa replied stiffly.

Asuka leaned in between Jenya and Req and whispered, “They used to be a thing. Almost got married back in the day.”

“Seriously?” Jenya whisper-gasped, “Your Mom used to bang Serizawa?!”

Serizawa swiveled in Asuka’s direction and smiled at her like a teacher does to a former troublemaker that was no longer his to make trouble for. “It is of course a blessing to have our best field worker back with us, Ms. Asuka. And I see young Miki is looking to join the family business?”

“Yes sir,” said Miki with a careful bow.

“I hope you don’t mind her sitting in,” mentioned Asuka, “If we’re going to be looking for my father she’s as involved as anyone. I’m guessing today’s meeting will touch on that.”

“It will. And of course Miki may join us,” agreed Serizawa, “With three generations of Saegusa women on our side, no force in heaven or hell may stop us.”

“Just about ready,” Dr. Graham announced, bringing to an end to the room’s chatter. Goro lowered the lights and Jenya returned to her seat between Requiem and Asuka.

“First we must say that yes, we have a rogue Kaiju deliberately seeking and attacking human targets in the South China Sea,” Serizawa began. “The Titan currently known as Manda has been striking any human vessel entering its territory with lethal consequences.”

At the mention of Manda’s name Req become rigid, and now it was Jenya’s turn to rub her friend’s shoulders in reassurance.

“However,” continued Ishiro, “there is a complication of the sort we never thought we would have to anticipate.”

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to go back a bit to properly explain things,” excused Vivienne, clicking the first slide. It was a map of Africa, with a number of arrows pointing out from the northern border. It was something like Jenya had seen before in anthropology class. “As I’m sure you know, during the last ice age our own species, _Homo sapiens_ migrated out of Africa and went on to infest the entire  globe, our large brains allowing us to adapt to any environment quickly, without being molded into a new form by evolution.”

The next slide fell into place. This one showed a similar but older map with different arrows leading out of Africa. “This wasn’t the first time hominids left Africa. Many of our cousins left earlier and evolved the old fashioned way into their own ecological niches.” With a click there was now an image of a small, rounded skull next to a model of a squat woman of dwarf-like stature. “ _Homo floresiensis_ , dubbed by many in the media as the hobbit race, adapted to islands of limited resources by greatly reducing in size. Though they are now extinct, modern humans that later came to inhabit these same islands still speak of the mischievous tiny forest men in their legends.”

Another click, another slide. This was another human-like skull, but with unusually large teeth and jaw. “Homo erectis, a particularly prolific variety that spread as far as China. Thought to be the first species to tame fire and express themselves artistically.” There was another side, this one of a man with a familiar pronounced brow. “And most famous, _Homo neanderthalensis_ , a large stocky hominid specially evolved for colder climates. It’s not clear how intelligent the Neanderthals were, but they were similar enough to humans to interbreed with them.”

“Please bear with me for a moment,” Dr. Graham pleaded when she switched to the next slide which showed an ancient map next to an Easter Island statue. “Nearly everyone knows about the story of Atlantis,” Graham continued, “It began with an allegory of Plato’s that was mistaken for historical narrative and became the focal point for every sort of crackpot theory imaginable. Less known to the world at large is the legend of the Lost Empire of Mu. What Atlantis is for the Atlantic, Mu is for the Pacific. Only the legends surrounding Mu are much older and more reliant on oral tradition. There is much contamination between the two stories. Waters were muddied further in the late 19th century when a white supremacist claimed to have translated some secret plates that told of Mu being made of an ancient superior white race brought down by impure heathens.”

“That old chestnut,” Jenya commented.

“It’s true,” interjected Dr. Chen, “We’ve been trying to disentangle the legends of Mu and Atlantis for years. The story of the Drowned City may be the closest we’ve found to the original story.”

“Wait. This isn’t going where I think it is, is it?” Goro asked in trepidation.

Dr. Graham breathed in deeply. “Please brace yourself,” she said, “This next slide is on the disturbing side. There was a boat found abandoned, _The Fortune of Komodo_ , floating above a recently submerged island. We believe the crew was made of treasure seekers who fell under assault. Manda did make a glancing strike on the vessel but we believe it was something else that killed the crew. One body was recovered; its abdomen had taken a hit from a shotgun. It was not one of the treasure hunters.” There was a click, followed by a roomful of gasps.

The wound was covered by a blood-soaked towel, but the gore was not the most shocking thing about the specimen. It wasn’t human- that much was much clear at a glance. The eyes were entirely too large. They hung open in death and their wide pupils nearly filled them with black. The jaw dangled open revealing two pronounced canines while the ears reached behind the skull, seemingly sealed to the back of the head. There was hair on the scalp of absolute obsidian but it either had been shaved recently or could not grow beyond stubble. It contrasted with the skin of the monster, a white so pale it might have been porcelain. Under her breath Req muttered something derogatory about “discovery channel mermaids.”

“As you can see,” Graham commented, “We seem to have ourselves nothing less than an entirely new species of homo.”

Almost instinctively Jenya let out a little cheer. Goro had too; they noticed one another and gave each other a symbolic high-five from across the darkened room.

“Any chance this is a single genetic aberration?” Asuka asked.

Dr. Serizawa shook his head. “Mutations are random. Any single mutation with a change this drastic would have spelled doom for this animal. This is a hominid adapted for life deep in the ocean. This must have been produced with many smaller mutations, selected for over generations. It had to have evolved this way as part of a community.”

“No gills?” Miki noticed.

“No,” confirmed Serizawa, “Evolution does not run backwards so easily.”

“If they breathe air, how is it that no-one’s seen them before?” asked Chen.

“We think that some people have,” Graham answered, “Genetic surveys of the surrounding populations have shown some unusual gene sequences irradiating from some island nations north of Indonesia. They were never properly explained before but after sequencing the genome of this body we can confirm the locals sometimes interbred with this species, which for the moment we’re calling _Homo muian_.”

“Before or after they sold their voice to an octopus witch?” Asuka wondered.

She was ignored. “But where have these people been living?” asked Dr. Chen instead. “It’s not easy to hide a whole separate species of human.”

“All evidence points to their base, their Drowned City, being located somewhere in the Philippine Trench,” said Serizawa. A cacophony of voices protested. “Yes, yes,” Serizawa continued, “It should be impossible. Any air breathing animal would be crushed by the pressure. But that is where they appear to originate. We do believe the Muians have vehicles capable of moving them in and out of the Trench but how they survive down there we do not know.”

“They have vehicles?” Goro asked. “So they’re smart, right? Human smart?”

“Yes,” Graham agreed. “They exhibit human-level intelligence from what we’ve seen. These are people, not monsters.”

“Those categories are not mutually exclusive,” Asuka reminded the group.

“And they’re attacking humans,” concluded Req, “without provocation.”

“Without provocation we know of,” Graham corrected.

“Which is why we must find the Atragon,” said Serizawa.

“We’ve already began looking into this,” Goro piped in, “a couple days ago. Hiroshi warned me that Red Bamboo was extremely interested in the Drowned City. But I doubt my husband shared this with the U.N. So why is our little fishing village occupied with so much floating firepower?”

To answer Graham clicked a new slide to the screen. This one was a black-and-white portrait of a navel crew. Set at their feet was a plaque that read _2014: Crew of the U.S.S. Blue Angel_. Some in the audience drew in a sharp breath. The news here was not likely to be the happy sort.

“Yesterday,” said Graham, “A submarine known as the U.S.S. Blue Angel was patrolling the South China Sea. I’m afraid everyone on board was killed when Manda dragged the submarine into the Philippine Trench. Before the Titan attacked though, the crew had an encounter with another vessel. One unlike anything on record. One whose occupants attempted to board the Blue Angel. On foot.”

“Banana oil,” Goro groaned in lieu of an actual swear word.

“So Manda is working in tandem with the Muians?” asked Req. “We can be sure of that?”

“It could well be that the Kaiju is under their direct control,” Serizawa admitted.

“That could be why Red Bamboo is so keen to get to the Drowned City,” Goro mused. “If the Muians have a way to control Kaiju- well that’s RB’s whole business model.”

“Is there any way Bamboo could reach those depths?” asked Serizawa.

“Not at the moment. Without a supply of Titanium S they wouldn’t have a submarine capable of even trying.”

“At the moment we don’t have one either,” Serizawa reminded the room, “And I can only delay a military response for so long. I’d rather not our first interaction with a new human species be an act of war.”

“It doesn’t seem to bother the Muians,” Req pointed out.

“What about,” Jenya began, but her voice began to choke out as soon as she realized so many important people were now listening to her. “What about… Godzilla?” she finished feebly.

“Excellent question,” Serizawa responded, “I have Dr. Quinn tracking Gojira on the Calico at the moment. So far he hasn’t deviated from his normal patrol patterns. It could be Gojira sees this as a conflict between humans and so is not compelled to interfere.”

“And the Queen?” asked Asuka.

“Mothra’s egg is still dormant,” Chen explained.

“After all this time?”

“Yes, we’re not sure why,” said Chen with worry in her voice. “Either she’s waiting for something specific to happen or her adult form is still out there somewhere. Her old body has to pass on before she can reincarnate.”

“But still no one’s seen her since 1945?” asked Asuka.

“Correct,” said Chen.

“What about Emma Russel’s work on the Orca?” asked Goro, “If we want to stop hostilities with the Muians her research might help open a channel of communication.”

“I would recommend against that,” Chen said reluctantly, “Dr. Russell experienced a deep tragedy in San Francisco and as much as I hate to say it, I question her stability. Perhaps even her loyalty.”

“You don’t think Emma would contact Red Bamboo, do you?” Goro asked.

“No, Bamboo is about money and power. Emma is an idealist,” Chen explained, “But she is an unstable element in a delicate situation.”

“I’m afraid I agree with Irene,” Serizawa concluded. Graham nodded in approval.

“What if the Muians refuse peace?” Req interjected, “They certainly don’t seem interested in cultural exchange at the moment.”

“We don’t know why they are showing such aggression,” reminded Serizawa.

“We also don’t know they’ll ever stop,” argued Req, “And they have a Kaiju. If we go down there we’ll be attacked. And we might have to go to war.”

“The Atragon is not a typical submarine,” promised Goro, “It should be able to go toe to toe with a Titan.” Goro then paused. “Well a lower level Titan anyway. I mean Godzilla could tear it apart like tissue paper.”

“Thanks,” said Jenya, “I’m super comforted now”

“That was not my concern,” said Req, “My point was…” She trailed off, and her face twisted as Req struggled to find the right words. Thankfully Serizawa already understood.

“Requiem’s point is well taken,” said Serizawa, sparing her, “I am not a man of war. But Hachiro Jinguji is. For all the man’s faults… and he has many… so very many… I trust the man’s instincts when it comes to battle. I trust him to do the right thing, one way or another. The Atragon is his ship. This is his mission. We just need to find him.”

“To that end,” interjected Emiko, “I will need the complete personal files of everyone my husband has worked with, including during his days with the SDF if possible.”

“Certainly,” agreed Serizawa, “but even if you find someone with useful information how will you be able to get them to divulge it? The people Jinguji works with are military trained; they won’t part with secrets easily.”

“I have a way,” Miki’s grandmother promised, “I just can’t tell you what it is.”

This was not an answer Serizawa enjoyed very much, the man grew tense. “Oh come now, Ishiro. I’m not going to torture anyone,” Emiko promised, “You’ll just have to trust me.”

The two elders stared at each other. The silence between them was electric with silent conflict.

“Should we say something?” Jenya proposed.

“No,” said Asuka, “Let them fight.”

Both Serizawa and Grandmother Saegusa looked to Asuka with a mutual annoyance that dissipated the tension. “I will get those files for you presently,” Serizawa conceded with a bow to his former fiancée.

 

|><|

 

The meeting continued, but it soon became too reliant on subjects Jenya could not even follow. The Monarch brass broke into smaller groups to work out specific problems. With nothing else more pressing to attend to Jenya helped carry in the personal files Serizawa had promised. The Saegusa matriarch then recruited Jenya to help sort through them. After a few hours they had collected the folders they needed into three special piles.

“Hachiro couldn’t have stolen the Atragon by himself,” Emiko explained, “At the very least he would have needed a pilot, an engineer, and a navigator. The navigator could be any of a couple hundred people. Any one that used to work in the Japanese Special Defense Force at the same time as my husband is a suspect. And that’s before adding in everyone he worked with at Monarch.”

They had one rather large pile of potential renegade navigators that could have aided in the Atragon’s disappearance. “As for the engineer,” continued Emiko, “It would have to have been a Monarch employee familiar with our technology.”

The pile of suspected engineers was considerably smaller. One name caught Jenya’s attention. “I think we can rule this one out,” she advised, lifting the file. On it was labeled _Goro Ibuki_.

“Oh, right,” said Emiko, taking Goro’s file and adding it to the reject pile. “Now pilot, that’s our best bet,” she concluded, tapping at a single folder in a pile of its own. “As far as I can see there’s only one woman that could possibly be piloting the Atragon. She was an orphan, raised by Monarch, personally groomed by Hachiro, ranked the best in her class and disappeared at the same time as Hachiro did. We find her, we find the Atragon.”

Jenya took a closer look at the file. On it was written the name _Akane Yashiro_. It was a start.


End file.
